The Future is Now
by PureFury
Summary: Cas messes up his angel mojo leaving Dean stranded in the future. Lucky for him, there's a friendly stranger, Sam, that seems happy to help. Unrelated Wincest
1. Chapter 1

The plan had been for Dean to simply pop into the past, speak to Samuel Colt and hop back. Easy-Peasy, right? Unfortunately, this really didn't look like the right time period.. At all. Dean silently cursed Castiel and the angel's mojo.

This wasn't the first time that Dean Winchester had time-travelled but this was definitely unusual even for him. He peered around what looked like an underground parking lot in confusion. When Castiel had promised him time travel he'd expected an old rural setting where people rode on horse back and churned thy own butter, not whatever mess this was.

Several, what Dean assumed were, cars were parked in straight lines. They'd been easy enough to identity due to the windshield and wheels but they all seemed to be the same make and model. A nightmare for classic car loving Dean. Instead of different body shapes, they all appeared to be like oblong pods in various shades of white, grey or black. Despite having the underground feeling, it was pretty light as there were lights installed into the cement ceiling above.

The air definitely seemed futuristic to Dean, if that were even possible, even though there were a few aspects which seemed like they hadn't been changed or maybe it was perfect so they saw no need to change the design. The walls were clinically white with a black line painted down the surface once every two or so metres. The bright lights were beginning to make his head pound making Dean groan in frustration, he'd only been there a matter of minutes and this world was already beginning to attack him.

Mind set on getting out, Dean walked around the perimeter of the space, looking for doors or an elevator. There has to be a way out, the hunter thought desperately. He wanted out and hopefully sooner rather than later as a feeling of claustrophobia was starting to weigh down on his chest. All he hoped was to get out or for Cas to get his feather ass down here and zap him back home where he knew how to leave a room. He felt horribly akin to a trapped mouse.

A clear voice suddenly spoke, making Dean jump. He had no idea where the voice came from as there where no speakers visible in the room, "Evening, citizens. The time is now 7pm and sector 4 is now out of bounds. The government thank you for your cooperation." The voice was obviously a robot and automated to repeat the same thing every day. At least they spoke the same language or that'd make everything a lot harder.

It was mere moments later when there was a soft pinging noise and one of the black lines on the white wall opened to reveal an elevator behind it. Dean marvelled at the technology as he hadn't even been able to tell that there was anything behind the wall.

A tall man in a dark grey suit and brown shaggy hair stepped out. He was obviously fit and his broad shoulders only acted to make him look bigger. He sounded and looked exhausted. He slumped slightly as he walked and it looked as though his feet were heavy. Dean wanted to laugh, obviously things hadn't changed that much since his time.

The man spoke but Dean didn't know what to as he had no cellphone or Bluetooth device. He knew it was rude but he continued to eavesdrop anyway. He wasn't raised with manners anyway.

"Look, Tai..." The man stopped, obviously listening to Tai. A frown formed on his pretty features, "I'm gunna have to go in tomorrow then and get the Manual transmitter Cable..." Dean realised that it sounded like a pretty normal conversation as he wouldn't have understood the technology Jargon even if he were back home, "Well, I'll go when sector 4 re-connects... No, they went to Gaple for the Straight Three Operator... Yeah well, whose fault was that? Exactly... You know-" The suited man suddenly froze when he saw Dean loitering in the car parking area, "Look, Tai, I'll have to DC you tomorrow... Okay? Bye."

Dean heard a quiet buzz which he assumed was the call being disconnected. The tall man seemed wary of Dean and for a second the hunter couldn't figure out why. That was until it suddenly dawned on him that his 21st century clothes probably didn't allow him to fit in. The man swallowed and took a step closer whilst his eyes shot to the black car-like vehicle which was closest to Dean. It almost seemed as though he was assessing the condition of the vehicle.

Uncertain of social etiquette, Dean simply took a step away from the pod shaped car without taking his eyes away from suit-man. The stranger fiddled with his thin tie while not taking his eyes off Dean. The gray suit had elbow patches, like an old lecturer would wear, but it was not tweed instead the material was a glossy silver which complimented the gray. Dean had never been into fashion but it was a well-fitted and clearly expensive suit.

The man hesitated before taking a step closer to Dean. The suited man was probably confused as Dean was dressed in clothes from his time. He bet that he looked really strange and possibly mad.

"Who are you?" The man asked cautiously. He didn't come any closer so they were speaking over a distance of a few meters.

"Um... Dean." The hunter replied uncertainly.

The man raised a fine eyebrow as his sharp gaze focused on the strange man, "Why did that sound like a question?" The stranger didn't miss a beat. He blew a strand of long brown hair away from his eyes but didn't get any closer.

Dean shrugged uselessly as he really had no idea what the man wanted him to say. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he peered around the relatively small space in vague disinterest. The tall stranger looked surprised as though he was shocked that Dean seemed at least kind of normal. His hazel-green eyes studied the man, who was slightly shorter than him.

"What are you doing down here anyway?" The man gestured around him to the clinically white and black parking area.

"Just... Getting my thing..." Dean lied as he pointed at one of the vehicles that was next to him.

The man's expression turned sceptical, "I have two reasons why I don't believe a single word of that sentence. One, only employees can park here and two, that is my car."

So they still call them cars, Dean pondered to himself silently. Maybe things hadn't changed that much after all? He didn't even know what year it was let alone whether words have changed.

"Clearly, I was joking," Dean tried for a casual eye roll which looked ridiculously fake, "I was... Left here by a friend." Which was technically true. He tried to seem cool and with everything under control. He was striving to seem like a normal citizen but that was a struggle since this tall man was the only future person that he'd met so far.

"Well, next time, tell your 'friend' that stunts like that could get them fired." Sam sighed as he walked closer to Dean in the direction of his vehicle. The hunter shifted uncomfortably as he stood there, "Look," The man began after a moment of thinking, "Is there anywhere you need to go because I'm heading out of this sector now anyway."

Dean rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Where are you heading?"

Sam held his wrist to the side of the car where Dean would usually expect the keys to go in. He assumed that there was something on his wrist that acted as a key, permitting him access. The tall man opened the door and leant against it as he peered across at Dean.

He seemed embarrassed when he spoke so he avoided eye contact and fiddled with whatever was under his sleeve which had opened the door. Dean was curious to see what keys of the future looked like but he didn't want to have to have them connected to his skin or even inserted under his skin.

"I'm going to housing 8..." The tall guy rubbed his long neck and his bangs fell over his eyes slightly as he ducked his head down.

"Housing 8, you say?" Dean pretended to consider the location for a moment. He could feel hazel eyes on him as he acted, "Yeah, that'll do!"

"Seriously?" The future-man seemed gobsmacked as he peered at the hunter. His brow creased and a sceptic look passed over his face, "You are going to housing 8?"

Peering down at his clothes, Dean frowned. What was this mystery man trying to say?

"Look, I don't know what you're implying but-" The hunter started.

"No, no, no." The guy raised his hands in a placating manner, "I didn't mean... I... Sorry."

"Don't worry! To replay me you can take me back to good ol' housing 8" Dean beamed happily in an attempt to calm the man. He was obviously feeling bad about his behaviour and comment.

Sighing, the giant man nodded for Dean to get in the other side. The hunter stepped closer to the car and peered down at the smooth metal side. There was no handle, button or lever for him to open the door with. Growing more embarrassed by the second, Dean pawed at the sleek surface in the hope that maybe something would pop open or activate.

Facing growing red, he could see the man peering at him with his jaw slack and a look of sudden amazement on his face. Dean wanted to flee but where'd he go in this new and very unfamiliar world. He couldn't even get into a car for God's sake!

Obviously pitying the man, the suited guy leant across to push the door open from the inside. His eyes carried a mix of suspicion and uncertainty but mainly a major look of surprise. Don't ask questions, Dean begged, Please don't ask questions.

"Have you never seen a Projeneration before?"

Hesitantly, Dean shook his head,"No..."

"What is up with you?" He mumbled to himself as he pressed a transparent band, located around his wrist, against a pad on the dashboard.

There was no steering wheel in front of either of the seats which caused an uncomfortable knot to tie in Dean's belly. This felt so totally unnatural to him even though his driver seemed completely at ease. The man pressed his thumb against a glowing stamp sized pad and it seemed to scan his thumb print. The hunter wondered whether it was for identification or something else.

"I'm Sam, by the way..." The long haired man spoke quietly. Dean pondered whether the man was offended that he'd never bothered to ask for his name.

"Sam?" He scratched his chin, "Well, that's a normal name..."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Don't be sarcastic. I know that it's really old fashioned so you don't have to say it."

The car suddenly jolted and the vehicle was being lifted up. A hole formed it the cement ceiling and they went upwards through it. It was almost pitch-black aside from the tiny lights which were blinking on the flat glass panels on the dashboard. Sam just peered around the car, apparently comfortable in the confining space.

Finally, they broke through the dark as the vehicle was lifted onto a road. Metal tracks were embedded into the usual Tarmac and every other vehicle on the road seemed to be relying on the metal to guide them to their destination as nobody had steering wheels to direct.

Instinctively, Dean wanted to reach out for the steering wheel even though it wasn't there. The sensation of driving or being driven without it simply felt hauntingly unsafe to the hunter. He peered out of the glass window at the world around them.

The other vehicles travelled just like theirs. Each had a distance of around two meters between them and each was travelling at the exact same speed. Dean assumed that it was rush-hour or the future equivalent as there were cars for as far as the eye could see in the orderly lines. The hunter wanted to ask about the tracks and cars but was still hesitant to act different or draw unnecessary attention to himself.

Buildings around the road were mostly steel with an odd window scattered here and there on the cold surface. It seemed a strange progression especially seeing as, in his time, loads of high rise buildings were being made of loads of glass. The sky was dark and grey low lying clouds clung to the air around the tops of the multi-story buildings. It took a minute but eventually he realised that it wasn't cloud but instead thick, suffocating smog. These GreenPeace types were right: Pollution is getting worse.

He was starting to believe that he didn't quite like this future world.

When Sam spoke Dean jumped as he was unprepared for the silence to be broken, "What's your name?"

Dean blinked at the Sasquatch sized man for a moment before hesitantly answering, "Um, Dean."

"Well then, 'umDean' it's nice to meet you." He grinned at his own poor sense of humor.

"That's not funny, dude." Dean tried to sound disinterested.

"Dude?" Sam laughed, "What century are you even from?!"

Swallowing and wringing his hands together, Dean bit his tongue and cursed himself then cursed Sam before finally cursing Castiel and his stupid angel magic. He knew that the truth wasn't a possibility as Sam would inevitably freak out and leave him stranded in this unfamiliar place. Dean just shrugged in answer as it seemed a much safer option than anything else. Sam seemed to let the subject go even though he wasn't exactly pushing it in the first place.

The vehicles zipped along quickly in between the large sky rises so within a handful of minutes, their car was turning off and following another set of tracks. There was only one other vehicle on this road so Dean assumed that maybe they were heading for a rougher side of town.

Minutes later, their car came to a steady halt in front of some sort of multi-story buildings. Apartments maybe? Large windows showed each floor but the glass was black as though it was tinted. The architecture was different from those further in the city. Sam groaned as he pulled himself out of the car. The tall man waited for Dean to exit before holding his wrist to the car door again and barely a second later the car, following the designated tracks, shot off around the building to where, Dean assumed, it'd be parked.

Sam looked constipated as he was obviously considering something. The hunter was about to tell him that when the tall man spoke instead, "Do you want to come up for a drink before you go?" He added more as if to explain himself, "Sector links don't close for another 2 hours or so..."

Dean glanced around the surrounding area in curiosity. Tall apartment buildings stood lined up along both sides of the tracks with just a few meters either side which acted as the sidewalk. He would be seriously lying if he said that the inside of Future-Man's home didn't interest him. Pondering on it for a moment, Dean quickly agreed to a small drink before he left. He didn't want to get overly attached to the man especially when Castiel would come and get the hunter any minute now. He hoped the angel would sort out the problem soon so he wasn't abandoned here.

Sam seemed happy with his decision as his lips pulled up tightly into a strong grin. It doesn't seem like this guy has much company, Dean thought.

Holding his wrist to the pad beside the door, there was a small beep then the doors magically opened for Sam. At this point, the older man was dying to see what was controlling everything so easily.

Sam smiled and welcomed Dean into the sterile white foyer. He had a feeling that white was more for practicality than just minimalist style as it was absolutely everywhere. It definitely had a futuristic feel to it though.

"Floor 7" Sam spoke clearly before stepping into a wide, glass tube in the middle of the room and sliding across a glass door. As soon as the two parts of glass had met, a powerful suction began to lift Sam off the floor. A powerful fan below Sam's feet shot into function effectively propelling Sam into the air. The tall man was taken straight upwards and onto the next floor. Dean could only assume that it could go all the way to floor seven. The device looked pretty intimidating so Dean wasn't exactly thrilled to have to use it.

Sam was gone leaving Dean alone in the empty foyer. He peered around and considered running but he had to wait for Castiel anyway so might as well wait with a drink and company.

Stepping to the machine, Dean pulled the glass sliding door back across to allow him entrance. His footsteps echoed inside the tube as he got in. Claustrophobia settled in as the tube didn't leave much extra space. He tugged the glass across and squeezed his eyes shut firmly to brace for impact.

Nothing happened. The hunter blinked open an eye to peer around in confusion. Why wasn't it working? He thought back to what Sam had done when the solution finally dawned on him suddenly.

"Floor seven." The suction was strong and Dean really didn't like the sensation of being lifted but falling at the same time. He tried to brace himself so was shocked when his feet Landed softly on the floor of level seven. The corridor area was very small as only one door stood on the pale wall. Number 9 was a holographic above the doorframe.

Stepping forward, he stumbled slightly. The weird suction tube, which was a sentence he never thought he'd say, had seriously messed with his head.

The door swung open to reveal Sam looking over at him with confusion sketched onto his features. He opened the door just soon enough to see Dean stumble so he stuck his arms out to steady the man.

"There you are. I was wondering when you were coming up," The giant of a man chuckled lightly before his face turned serious, "Do you not rise well? You should have said! We could have taken the stairs!" Dean was glad that something reliable still existed. He could trust stairs so stairs were safe unless they were some weird future stairs; in which case, he'd never leave this level ever again.

Sam spoke again with the corners of his lips curled up slightly, "Here, come on in."

 ** _All feedback is greatly appreciated :)_**


	2. Chapter 2

-THE FUTURE IS NOW- 2

Dean stepped through the relatively normal looking door although he did not doubt that there would be some sort of fancy feature hidden away somewhere. Maybe voice activated or self re-painting? They were both possibilities for all he knew.

The room was largely white but there were slashes of bright colours throughout the area. It was deceptively big on the inside with the couch area being sunken into the floor. Steps led down to the couches. Moving pictures, on a loop, were on the pale walls apart from the wall that the couches faced; that wall was bare.

Large windows acted as one side of the wall although the windows were not dark, like you could see from the outside, but instead perfectly clear. From there you could see the city as Sam's apartment was lucky enough to face away from the other apartment buildings on the other side of his road. Dean knew that, even in his time period, this place would have cost an absolute fortune. It made him wonder if maybe Sam, despite his youth, might be some sort of millionaire.

The kitchen and living room were connected but felt separated by the breakfast bar that protruded from the wall to act as a barrier. Glass in the wall of the kitchen and different boxes with lights and buttons were pushed up against the back of the counter but Dean couldn't even hope to identify them. The usual toaster and microwave that you'd expect would look so out of place in their kitchen home.

A door led off from the living room to what Dean assumed was Sam's bedroom. He was itching just to go and look around. Not for any other reason than just to see what a future-man's bedroom would look like. Maybe he'd find a way to get to peak around later?

The space was light, clean and tidy but also felt comfortable. He wondered what Sam did for fun as the room seemed extremely minimalist. No TV, computer or games consoles sat lying around. Perhaps people didn't have time for leisure these days?

"You have a nice house," Dean said but it came out awkward as he was hesitant to reveal his more feminine side even though he would only be around this man for a short period of time until Castiel came to the rescue. He simply wanted to keep his macho facade.

Sam raised a confused eyebrow and instantly the hunter knew that he'd said something wrong. It was so hard to navigate this future lingo especially since he had no idea what was currently spoken or not. Despite this, Sam just smiled and carried on, "Thank you! I've tried to personalise it but I'm not here all that much." He gestured to the pictures in the digital picture frames.

A picture of Sam at some sort of ceremony faded into one of him next to his parents with a beaming grin slapped across is handsome face.

"Yeah, I see them. They're great... Nice touch," He definitely wasn't used to complimenting people's interior designing but Sam didn't seem like he was used to being complimented either.

They stood in silence for a moment before Sam toed off his work shoes and tucked them underneath a small rectangular table by the door. Following by example, Dean took his work boots off too and pushed them besides Sam's so they were in a neat line. He hoped that it would satisfy Sam's apparent perfectionism. Dean wouldn't be that surprised if Sam had some form of OCD as the cushions were each leaning against the back of the couch in a diamond position.

Dean watched the way that Sam's muscular shoulders relaxed as he peeled off his suit jacket and put it into a cupboard beside the door. To open the cupboard, Sam simply pushed against the bare wall and, with a release of air, a door slid open. Dean couldn't imagine himself ever getting used to invisible storage spaces.

The man with floppy brown hair tugged his tie off and laid it atop the small rectangular table. Popping open his top buttons, Sam loosened the collar of his shirt and by doing so, he revealed a sliver of tanned skin at the top of his chest. Dean found himself gazing at that soft looking area of flesh and shaking himself out of his head. He'd never looked at a man like that before. It's the time travel, he argued to himself.

"Umm, beer?" The Sasquatch asked with a polite smile that practical strangers usually offered each other upon passing in the street.

"Sounds great. I'm parched." The hunter agreed with a nod.

They padded across the virgin white carpet and towards the kitchen where Sam pulled out two ice cold beers from the sleek looking fridge. Not much had changed in terms of this invention apart from the mist that spilt from the bottom of the machine as it was opened. Also, yet another glass pad was in the front of the cooling device. The small screen lit up when Sam came close enough to it for it to sense his presence, or so Dean assumed.

Quickly snagging two beers, clearly of some future-yet-to-be-invented brand and blend, Sam turned and stepped towards Dean with one of the beers held out in offering. Stretching up his arm, Dean leant forward to collect the cold beer from the man's hands but in doing so his leather jacket sleeve rose up to reveal his bare wrist.

There was a smash as the dark bottle slipped through Sam's long fingers. Breathing in a loud gasp, Sam jumped back until be couldn't move away any further as the countertop dug into his lower back. Shock and mild fear filled his previously warmth filled eyes. The hunter could see they way his throat swallowed nervously.

A crease formed in Dean's brow and he quickly peered around in search of danger, "What? What is it?" He asked. Instantly, he was prepared for action.

Pointing towards Dean's still outstretched arm, the homeowner stuttered, "W-where is your b-band?"

The hunter peered down that his wrist and frowned. What was the man talking about? He pulled his arm back in beside his body and rubbed his wrist subconsciously.

Before he could answer, Sam spoke again, "Are you one of the illegal immigrants? Were you part of the murder in sector 2?!" Panic colored his desperate tone. His hazel eyes dared around as if he were searching for an escape.

"Illegal immigrant? What?" He was beyond confused right now and nothing was helping.

"Where are you from?! Are you one of those from Minnesota? I heard they don't get bands there. How'd you get in?" Fear transformed slightly to curiosity as he asked more about Dean's origins.

Placing out placating hands, Dean tried to calm the tall man, "No, I'm from Kansas. Now, show me this band."

"You're from Kansas and you haven't been registered?" His voice suddenly fell into a whisper and his eyes shifted in the area around them, "Oh my God, are you one of the rebels?"

Sighing, Dean was growing tired of being completely confused, "A rebel?" Unfortunately for him, Sam seemed to take his confusion as some kind of agreement.

"Oh God, you can't be here!" Sam began to crowd Dean back towards the entrance, "I could lose my job or WORSE! Get out quickly!"

"No, no, no wait!" The hunter refused to move until Sam finally looked him in the eye, "I'm not rebelling against anyone or anything." He stated clearly in the hopes of clearing up the misunderstanding.

Sam leant against the breakfast bar in relief. His head fell limp so his chin rested on his chest as he took steadying breaths. After a few minutes he seemed to finally ground himself. He peered up at Dean from beneath his bangs; his hazel eyes were curious.

"If you're not rebelling or illegal then why don't you have a band?" Sam rolled up the long sleeve of his shirt to reveal a transparent band wrapped around his tanned wrist. It was probably about 2cm in width and it was incredibly thin. It appeared to be made from some sort of lightweight, durable glass or plastic. There seemed to be nothing particularly special about the clear band so Dean had no idea what the fuss was about.

It suddenly dawned on the hunter that this was probably what Sam used to unlock his car. Is it just for keys? Dean pondered silently. It didn't look particularly comfortable but there didn't look to be anyway to take it off.

Knowing that he had to answer the question, Dean swallowed thickly. He stopped to consider how to phrase the sentence, "... Do you have time travel these days?" It seemed more likely than back in his time. What year is it anyway?

"Time travel? Like moving to different time periods without physically ageing yourself?" Sam scratched at his head for a moment, "So you're telling me that you time travelled?" He sounded so neutral that Dean struggled helplessly to figure out whether time travel existed these days.

"... No?" It came out as a question which made Sam raise a sharp eyebrow, "Yes."

Both Sam's eyes brows rose this time and his eyes grew wide. Immediately, Dean knew that he'd just been played by Mr Future-Man. Damn, Dean cursed silently, He's good.

"Time travel? Seriously?"

"No...?!" He knew he had to be more assertive but his vocal cords just weren't cooperating.

"Time travel, what's it like?! When did it finally work?! Who was it?! Was it Cheame Maser, she's really close right now!" Sam's eyes were bright and as though someone had flipped a switch, he was completely enthralled. He was practically hanging off every word that left Dean's lips. The sense of awe seeped off him in waves.

Thinking on his feet, Dean did what he does best: Dean lied, "I can't tell you that! It's against the rules of time travel!"

"Ah no!" Sam practically whined like a hurt puppy, "You can't do that! Tell me, please! I won't tell anyone! I promise, I don't even have anyone to tell!"

"You believe me though?" Dean blinked at the buzzing man.

"Well, yeah obviously! We've been working on time jumps for years!" Sam wanted to clap like an over excited toddler, "I mean, it's not even my field but I get stuck in when I can!"

Guilt washed over Dean as he watched the man almost jump on the spot in excitement. This man had clearly dedicated a large chunk of his time to this time-jumping device and now he thinks that Dean had used it to travel rather than angel power. He took a breath and steeled himself, despite only just meeting the guy, Dean really didn't want to let him down especially since he looked so happy. Also, he didn't want to deceive the man and have to lie for the next few hours or days that he stranded here.

"Look, Sam..." Sam nodded enthusiastically to Dean's voice, "I... I'm not from the future."

It was painful to see Sam's heart practically breaking in front of his eyes. Betrayal and shattered trust flashed in his bright eyes. Immediately, Sam closed his walls up as though to protect himself from further hurt. His demeanour was now cold and business-like.

"So you lied? You're just some guy off the walk?" Dean assumed that Sam meant some guy off the street.

"No," The hunter didn't know why he needed Sam to believe him but he simply knew that he needed Sam's trust again. Like it was hard-wired into him to make Sam believe, "I did time travel but I'm not from the future. I'm from the past."

Blinking to clear his thoughts, Sam remained frozen, "I'm sorry... Repeat that last bit?"

"I'm from the past. 29th of April, 2012 actually." Dean said with sincerity.

"Are you serious? Please don't be joking with me." Sam said with a hint of desperation.

"Yes, this morning I was in Sioux Falls, South Dakota and then I traveled time and wound up in that car park."

"Oh my God... You're being serious?" Sam thought for a moment before speaking, "Who is the president?" Scepticism coloured his tone.

"Ergh, I don't really keep up with politics but it's Barack Obama." He said with confidence.

You could clearly see the cogs in Sam's head turning as he tried to remember his history. He obviously decided that Dean was right as he just nodded and moved on, "What about the Hakai Earthquake?" He quirked a challenging eyebrow.

"What? What earthquake?" Dean racked his memory but nothing came through of an earthquake of that name.

"Are you joking me? It was the deadliest earthquake of all time. How do you not know abou-" Sam suddenly froze.

The tall man shot over to the sunken lounge and picked up an iPad-like tablet from the seat. He spoke to the device "Hakai Earthquake" before stopping to read the information provided.

Regret and shame pulled at his features, distorting them, "Oh no."

"What?"

"I'm a bit early..."

"What d'ya mean?" His Kansas accent thick on his tongue in his confusion and mild worry.

"2052 not 2012..." Sam looked sheepish as he gazed back at the other man, "Sorry..."

"Shit, man." Dean wiped a hand over his face, "Deadliest?"

"You cannot know this information!" Sam cried and closed down the page on the tablet before chucking in down carelessly. Dean assumed that it must be pretty old technology nowadays.

Dean peered down to the glass on the kitchen floor from where she still stood behind the breakfast bar beside the fridge. Cold beer pooled around the dark glass. He leant his head like a confused puppy and glanced up at Sam. The future-man watched him carefully as though he was there to be studied like a specimen to a scientist.

"There's still glass..." Dean said slowly.

Sam strolled over to him and shrugged, "Cleaner is coming around any minute now anyway so don't worry."

Dean frowned. That just felt wrong, "You're not just going to leave that for a cleaner to sort, are you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Ultimately bewildered, Sam shook his head.

Dean wanted to roll his eyes. Sam seemed to live a rich lifestyle and had the posh-boy attitude to go with it. Did he not consider anyone else? Did he not think that a poor cleaner had better things to do than spending time picking up shattered glass?

As if on queue, a quiet buzz filled the room echoing out from beneath a cabinet in the kitchen. Seconds later, a small frisbee shaped machine rolled out from where it had been stored. The little wheels on its base ensured that it moved forward easily. It moved around the kitchen area with sensors stopping it hitting the sideboards of the counters.

"Let me just program it," This kind of technology was kind of old school and almost every home had one. It was just an automatic Hoover but Dean had a gleam of intrigue in his eye so Sam let him stay and watch. The man was either really from 2012 or he was a really good actor.

The small machine made its way around the floor of the kitchen and spend a longer amount of time over the glass and spilt beer (just as Sam had programmed it to do).

Sam allowed the strange man to watch the Hoover make its rounds and took the opportunity to study Dean. When thinking of people from the past, Sam had never imagined them to be particularly good looking but maybe he'd assumed wrong; Dean seemed pretty handsome. He let himself admire the slight tan on his skin and the plumpness of his pink lips.

Sam was gay and happily so. He was who he was and practically everyone got that. The tall man had heard about homosexuals being beaten to death in the past so knew that maybe raising the subject with the other man wouldn't be the best idea. It wouldn't be Dean's fault if he was homophobic as he was a product of his time. Sam wasn't quite sure but he thought that maybe Dean came from those times where homosexuality was considered a sin and punishable by death. Maybe he needed to read up a bit on 2012 but he was pretty sure that he was right. History lessons rarely went that far back when he was in school. He didn't particularly want to risk an old fashioned beating because he breaches the subject of sexuality with this man.

"Look," Sam gently guided Dean away from the kitchen area, down the steps and onto one of the large sofas, "Sit here and tell me about your time!" Sam bit his lip to try and contain his utter delight. He'd always been interested in the past and future and this was just proven when he offered to give up his spare time to join the group of scientists working on Time-Jumps.

"What do you want to know?" Dean smirked slightly. Sometimes it was just nice to be looked at with awe and interest. To actually have someone interested in your life, even the boring bits, was rare especially for a hunter. He was encouraged to keep talking by the complex questions Sam thought up or by the completely dumb questions that were asked.

Much about their times were very different but some things had reminded the same. Dean found that some new technology in his time had been constantly developed and improved until it was the ultimate model in Sam's year.

With pure excitement on Sam's face, Dean decided that maybe staying for a few hours wouldn't do any damage; even if it was just to indulge the other man.


	3. Chapter 3

They talked until the shadows began to stretch across the pale floor signalling that it had grown late into the night. The men were completely absorbed in each other and the lives they lived in their separate times. By the end of their conversation, Dean was wishing that there were some way for them to keep in contact once he'd returned to his usual life. It'd be cool to have a pen pal from the future.

Sam was fascinating, despite the man's argument to the contrary, and Dean would sit discovering more about him for hours, if he could. The way that Sam threw his head back when he laughed absolutely captivated the hunter and he found himself striving to make the other laugh. He actually spent time thinking of jokes that he knew Sam would like.

"So your Prime Minister is a woman?" Dean asked completely confused.

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. The beer in his system had began to lighten his mood and help him significantly relax. His cheeks had grown rosy red from the alcohol and large quantity belly laughs.

"I'm cool with the whole woman thing but when did you guys stop using Presidents?" He took a swill from his cold beer. Sam had tried to explain to him how these future bottles kept the beer cold for hours but the scientific jargon went over his head.

"I dunno," Sam shrugged and chuckled, "A hundred years ago or so... It was before my time."

There was a quiet beep that echoed through the apartment effectively disrupting the men's conversation. Sam's face screwed up in pain and he lifted a hand to cradle the left side of his head, just behind his ear. Concern flashed through Dean but Sam's pain seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it had arrived.

"What was that?" Dean asked, peering around the large area. He was partly asking about the beep and partly about Sam's pain.

Sam sighed, seemingly tired of whatever it was, "Curfew."

"Wait... There's a curfew?" Shocked, he cried.

Rolling his eyes, he took a long drink from his beer before replying. It was clearly a part of modern society that he disliked, "At one AM everyone has to either be in bed or going to bed. If you don't then they can issue a pretty heavy fine."

"But why?!"

"Our world runs like a perfectly oiled clock. Everything happens everyday at the same time and with the same people." He spoke carefully, almost reserved, "The government don't want workers tired so they set a time for bed. It doesn't usually effect me as I'm normally in bed by now but if you don't get into bed in the next 15 minutes then you get fined."

Dean's mind was blown. The government had so much control over the people, he didn't want to live in this kind of world where there was no freedom. It's barely a life at all if someone gets to dictate what you do all the time.

"How do they know?" He questioned curiously. It's not like government officials were hanging around every home to ensure everyone obeyed the curfew.

Sam raised his arm so the sleeve fell back to reveal his clear band, "They don't make sure that every citizen has one of these for our benefit. I mean... They're great and I love them but it's mainly used for monitoring." He explained, "They always know where I am, my health and what I'm doing. You can't hide anything." His long fingers traced along the edge of his bracelet. The touch was gentle so verged on fond.

There was a brief silence as Dean internalised the information and Sam reflected on the governmentally controlled mess that was supposed to pass as a life. He really didn't like the lack of freedom and craved to live back in the days when it wasn't illegal to be up all night, drink too much or travel away last minute. He wanted to not be controlled all the time like his life was some sort of video game for a man sat in a large office with a desk. In short, he wanted a life similar to Dean's.

"But why?"

Sam shrugged, "Helps keep our community running smoothly... Apparently." Dean was going to reply but Sam cut over the top, "Anyway, I have to get to bed otherwise I'll get a sharp fine tomorrow." He stood and stretched out his muscles, "Wait, do you have anywhere to go?"

Dean thought for a moment. He kind of expected for Castiel to have already beamed him back by now but he decided that he would have to make do until then. So far, this future didn't seem all that great but staying for another few hours wouldn't hurt him. Anyway, it wasn't like the government had a weird tracking band on his wrist to control him, right?

"Could I stay here? I may have disappeared back by morning but... Until then I'm kinda stuck." He was embarrassed to have to ask but the hunter knew that the other man wouldn't refuse him. Over the hours that they'd sat speaking, they'd learnt so much about each other that it felt like they'd been friends for months already. Not that he trusted Sam to not kill him in his sleep... Although, he didn't really trust anyone outside of Castiel and Bobby not to do that.

"Of course!" Sam was gracious as he smiled down to Dean, who was still sat on the couch, "Here, get up a minute." Once Dean had stepped far enough away from the couch, Sam reached around the side of the arm rest and reached down to find a button. He pressed it and the cushion part of the chair began to uncurl out. It automatically stretched across the sunken living room area and legs unfolded from underneath. A full queen size bed was now positioned in the middle of Sam's living room complete with virgin white pillows and thick blanket, "I don't know why I had this installed as I never really have anyone around but I guess it's useful now since I only have one bedroom. I hope it's alright..." The host smoothed out the wrinkled sheets til they were perfect.

Dean was still in awe from watching the process when he spoke, "Are you kidding me?! This bed is better than most of the places I've had to sleep!"

Sam seemed to relax at the reassurance. He glanced down at his wrist band and the numbers 1:13 lit up in a pale blue. Two minutes til the fine would be implemented, "Look, I've got to go! Bathroom is through my bedroom so don't hesitate to just knock and walk through." He called back as he walked towards his bedroom door.

He needed to grab his pyjamas and leap into bed in the next two minutes. Sensors were used in every house throughout the city to detect where you were in your home. This way, they could fine you if you were not getting into bed by 1am. Their logic was that a rested workforce was a more effective and productive workforce. He got his sleep pants and jumped into bed where he changed into them. He peered down at the ghost of a scar that looped around his right shoulder in a ring and briefly wondered if it would disturb Dean to see it. He reassured himself that despite being, in his opinion, very ugly it was growing increasingly fainter due to the tissue therapy they'd been using on the area.

Sam thought about Dean for a while. The man who was essentially still a stranger was just in the other room, sleeping on the auto-bed. He just really hoped that he wouldn't be gone by morning as he really wanted to ask a whole bunch of questions.

* * *

In the other room, Dean had stripped down to his boxers and was now lying in the heavenly soft bed. He thought about Sam's comment of him needing the toilet during the night but he desperately hoped and even prayed that he'd be home before morning. He couldn't figure out why Castiel wasn't answering his prayers but the feeling of abandonment was beginning to settle into his stomach.

* * *

A sound, suspiciously similar to a microwave, rang out waking Dean from his deep slumber. His first thought upon awakening was that he hadn't slept so well in years which was surprising as he was in such a foreign environment; That usually had the hunter all up and twitchy. Although, he was still tired which suggested that it was actually early.

Peering about to find the source of the noise, Dean saw a Sasquatch moving around in the kitchen area. It was then that a rich aroma hit him but he couldn't quite place it. Throwing the duvet off him, Dean hoisted himself up onto his feet and pulled on his jeans in an attempt to look at least part way decent in front of this stranger.

Sam hadn't noticed Dean's awakening so was still pottering around the kitchen relatively quietly. The man was wearing only pyjama pants which gave the hunter an opportunity to peer at his firm back muscles as he approached. The waistband was low slung and Dean had to shake himself out of the daze he got from staring. Perhaps the time travel had messed with his head? The only other time he'd checked out men was during a phase in high school which was short lived.

Coughing to announce his presence, Dean spoke, "Good morning."

Sam practically jumped out of his skin when Dean's words broke the quiet of the apartment. He clutched a hand to his rapidly thumping heart, "Oh my God, Dean! Trying to give me a heart attack!?"

The wrist band glowed a mild red from where it was raised in front of Sam's chest. The hunter assumed that the device was monitoring his heart rate and had detected the sudden spike. Dean's eyes studied the glowing band for a second before focusing back on his host. Sam, with his magnificent bed hair, didn't seem at all concerned with it though so Dean let it pass.

"I didn't know you were awake; did I wake you? Breakfast?" Sam asked once his heart had stopped trying to escape his toned chest.

"What is it?" Dean leant around the man to peer at the bowl of porridge looking stuff. Grey specks floated within the goopy mixture.

"Umm, it's sorta like oats and stuff but those grey bits are like concentrated vitamins." He explained while pointing to bits of the food.

"I hate to offend but it looks gross." He pulled a face of disgust, "Don't you have bacon? Egg? Just normal toast?"

"Bacon? Are you seriously telling me that you have bacon for breakfast everyday when it's so expensive?!" Sam asked in amazement.

"Pretty much, yeah. It's not all that pricy back in my time."

"It's kinda a special occasion sort of food as it is real expensive. It's because pigs, cows and sheep are kinda rare these days so whatever meat you get a hold of costs a lot of units."

"Units?" He picked up Sam's breakfast and tilted the bowl this way and that way, watching it move around the bowl slowly.

"Yeah. We pay for food and basically everything in units." Sam watched Dean inspect the gloop, "Try some. It comes in loads of different flavors."

Grabbing the spoon from his host, Dean shovelled some of the pale mix into his mouth whilst purposely avoiding the grey bits. He really didn't trust those bits at all. As he munched, Sam began to create another bowl as his had been stolen by a certain hunter.

"It's not too bad," Dean muttered between mouthfuls. He stopped speaking when he remembered his manners.

There was a silence for a few minutes as both men stood leaning against the countertops enjoying their first meal of the day. Unlike Dean, the future man even ate the suspicious grey blots in the sea of oats. Sam couldn't help it when his lips curled up at the sight of his guest staring intently into the food as though it held the secret to eternal life. Maybe he was? Sam didn't know the man well enough yet to know for sure whether he was a deep thinker.

His band vibrated alerting him that he had 45 minutes until he had to leave for work. Chucking the bowl back into automatic washer, he headed off back towards the bedroom quickly ready to leap in the shower, weigh (For the governments records of employee health), dress himself and leave. He should have plenty of time.

* * *

He was tightening his thin tie around his neck as he headed towards the door. The act of leaving meant that he had to pass his house guest who was sat in bed with his blanket pooled around his crossed legs. It reminded Sam a little bit of how he used to sit and wait for his mother to come and read him a bedtime story. The memory caused a tightening in his chest and the constant ring on his wrist glowed a light blue at the sudden drop in serotonin. Sam glanced down at it and pulled his jacket sleeve down to cover it. Even though Dean didn't know what all the colors meant.

"Help yourself to anything... You can always go back to sleep as it is really early, nearly 6am." Dean nodded to confirm so Sam went over to a glass panel on the wall near the door and pushed a button on the display. Suddenly, it was almost pitch black in the room and the dark tint on the outside of the glass seemed to make a great amount of sense. Dean watched carefully just in case he'd have to turn the lights back on in an hour or so.

Sam began to walk towards the entrance but stopped with his hand outstretched for the handle. Without turning to face Dean, he asked, "Will you be here when I return?"

The shorter man shrugged before remembering that the home owner wasn't looking directly at him, so had to vocalise his answer, "I don't know. I can't control it from the future."

Sam seemed to nod for a second before leaving. Dean wondered if maybe that was the wrong answer. Maybe the other man wanted more support or encouragement that he wanted to be there and wasn't just waiting around to finally leave. He felt a pang of guilt in his gut as he really didn't want to hurt or upset Sam in anyway because he had quickly grown to like the guy.

Deciding to take Sam's advice, as nearly 6am was still ridiculously early, Dean pulled the thick duvet up to his chin and settled down for catch up on some missing sleep. Back at home, the endless hunts had begun to get to him and it showed as his focus and concentration had begun to slip. This could be good for him; a vacation to relieve the stresses and strains of day to day life as a hunter. All he really wanted now was to catch up on some sleep and maybe return home tomorrow morning as Castiel and Bobby were undoubtedly worrying about him.

As he lay there he noticed, not for the first time, the quiet buzzing that seemed to dwell in this modern world. It sounded somewhat similar to the hum of electricity. He could only assume that the large amounts of technology being used would create a permanent buzz, similar to white noise.

He managed to slip into unconsciousness easily with his last thoughts being about Sam and the way the man had been so willing to just take him in. Dean thought that perhaps he should be more cautious around the man but he dismissed the idea easily as he was really too content to care. He dreamt about Sam and the way the man smiled with his whole face and laughed with his whole body.


	4. Chapter 4

He was dragged back to consciousness by the urgent fullness of his bladder. His muscles and limbs were stiff from too much sleep but he couldn't really complain since he was feeling significantly better than any day in the last few years or at least since his father had died two years ago.

Leaning up onto his elbows, Dean peered around into the darkness. He drew the blanket off him and leapt up before having to regain his balance due to the harsh speed of his rise. Stumbling blindly, especially on the stairs of the sunken lounge, Dean just about managed to survive the journey over to the light controls. He pushed his hand against the glass hopelessly in utter desperation as it would seem pretty pathetic for Sam to come home to find Dean sat in the dark all day because he couldn't work the controls.

His warm hand pushed against the cool panel and it instantly lit up revealing several different options from him to choose from. There was sections for the thermostat, air quality, air density and air filtering. There was also one called Toxicity Check but the hunter knew better than to play around with that. Slightly fearful of the complicated options, Dean stuck to the section that read "Lighting". He managed to find the correct button to untint the dark glass allowing for sunlight to pour into the room. His eyes stung at the sudden assault but, with swift blinking, he soon adjusted.

The near bursting sensation in his lower abdomen caused him to continue his original mission which was to search out the bathroom. The previous night Sam had said it was attached to his bedroom so now was the time to see if it was the truth.

The door to the bedroom was normal, much to Dean's relief. He didn't think he'd be able to cope if it was all futuristic. Darkness shrouded the room but when the hunter took a step forward, light suddenly lit the room by some automated system, Dean assumed that's what it was anyway.

The room was overwhelmingly minimalist just like the other rooms of the apartment had been. A large, perfectly made, king sized bed lay as the focal point of the room with its large headboard pushed against the white wall on the left. Dean guessed that Sam needed it large to ensure that his feet wouldn't stick off the edge. It had dark blue covers that looked divine to the touch and sensuously silky. Dean's impulses craved to dive between the soft sheets and fall straight back to sleep. Although, he doubted that a man like Sam would appreciate a grimy stranger rolling around on his bed. Two dark wood side tables were positioned on the left and right of the bed with a type of lamp on top. A large heavy looking desk with some sort of toolbox stashed underneath it was on the other side of the room, on the far side of the bed. Nothing else littered the room.

He could imagine Sam's long limbs sprawled out in the bed and his bird's nest of bed hair upon his head. He briefly pondered if maybe Sam slept naked. Did he seem like the kind of guy that would? Dean assumed that his host would sleep naked if he didn't have guests over. Even though he had no evidence to prove it.

There was two doors leading off from the room and suddenly a vicious curiousness over took the man. He inched closer to one of the dark doors and reached out for the handle. Inside was a light bathroom with the minimalist theme continued here as well; Dean wondered if it was fashionable in the future to be so plain or if Sam just hadn't personalised the place.

* * *

The trip to the bathroom was mostly uneventful aside from the hunter's run-in with the modern toilet. He seriously didn't understand the different settings mounted on the back of the toilet so just clicked one and hoped for the best.

He exited back through to the main area, running his hand over Sam's silky sheets on the way past, and found that his stomach rumbled upon seeing the clean kitchen. He bit his lip before padding over to the food and hesitating. Was it right to go rifling through another man's drawers? Even if it was in the desperate search of food? The hunger pang in his stomach told him that yes, it definitely is okay.

It took him a while to find something that he recognised because apparently these days even chips came in a tin. That freaked the hunter out of a minute before he settled himself and devoured two tins which was probably a massive mistake. For each second longer he was here, the more he longed to be home fighting monsters, saving people and dealing with Cas' ultimate awkwardness.

"God," He muttered to himself, "I'm gunna kill that feathery Ass myself." He knew it probably wasn't Castiel's fault that he was stuck in God-knows what time but nevertheless, he was stuck in the future and he had no idea what the hell he was doing... Or how to get back. At least Sam's a nice guy, He placated himself.

Relaxing back down onto his own bed, he wondered when Sam would be back as it was nearly 2pm and the other man had left at 5:45 in the morning. Unless working days were super long now meaning that Sam wouldn't be home for hours and hours?

Dean groaned to himself, this was going to get boring.

* * *

The door clicked open and Dean jumped up like a puppy that'd been abandoned all day while its master worked. The home owner looked slightly surprised when he noticed Dean bounding towards him with enthusiasm. He blinked at the slightly shorter man before speaking.

"You're still here?" He seemed mildly nervous as he posed the question.

Dean couldn't place why the man would be nervous or apprehensive, "Yeah, why not?" There was a brief period of silence, "Did you want me to go?" He asked, slightly hurt and partly confused.

"No, no, no!" He cried. Sam coughed when he realised how overzealous he sounded, "I had just gotten the idea that you would have... Ya know, just popped back by now..."

Suddenly, Dean under stood what the suited man was trying to say. He wasn't looking forward to him leaving so to not be disappointed he told himself to expect the worst. This meant that the hunter that stood directly in front of him was a shock.

"I don't control it." Dean explained as he watched Sam toe off his shoes and pull off his jacket, "It's the guys on the other end. To be honest with you, I'm surprised that they haven't brought me back already since I'm in the wrong time period."

"So you don't have long then?" His shoulders dropped a tiny bit but the hunter was close enough to notice the action.

"I dunno," He shrugged, "It's up to them but, obviously, time travel is complicated."

Sam nodded and ran a hand though his long hair. Dean was close enough to study the man's face so took the opportunity to do so. Dark circles bruised the skin under the man's eyes and the previously sparkling hazel was now dull. Guilt twisted itself in Dean's gut as he contemplates how perhaps Sam's tiredness was due to their late night talk last night. The man did have to be up early the next day as well. Dean felt the need to apologise so he opened his mouth to speak. Unfortunately for him, Sam started to say something first.

"Are you hungry? Food?" The future-man scratched the skin beneath the clear bracelet absentmindedly.

His need to apologise was interrupted by the loud grumbling of his belly. It suggested to him that maybe food was a really good idea after all. He nodded enthusiastically which made Sam's lips perk up slightly. Dean grinned back, happy to have cheered his host up a little bit.

"Okay," Sam said peering around the space, "I'll see what I can find."

The tall man pulled off his tie and undid the top few buttons of his shirt. He also rolled up his sleeves as he began pottering around the kitchen cupboards. His eyes scanned over several canned goods before deciding on a cheesy pasta that he forgotten that he'd even purchased.

Dean studied him carefully. The opening of the other man's shirt flashed a tanned area of smooth flesh. The temptation to run his tongue over his lips was overwhelming. The tight white material accentuated the hard muscle that was hidden beneath as it stretched over the bulges of Sam's body. Dean found himself blushing from the back of his neck to his ears as he realised that he'd been staring for the last few minutes. Luckily for him, Sam had been too absorbed to notice his creepy stalking.

He forced himself to look away. He'd never really felt this pull towards another male before so he was on the edge of unfamiliar territory. To say that he was unsure was a huge understatement. Sure, he found Sam physically attractive but he'd never even looked at another guy that way since high school so whether this was normal or just some weird side effect of time travelling, Dean really didn't know.

The future man was scooping the content of the two cans into a large bowl before placing it on top of a glass panel which began to glow red beneath the bowl. Sam turned to Dean and leant against the countertop casually. Didn't he realise that the pose had Dean's confused brain ticking back into overdrive. He was having a personal crisis right now and Sam acting like an unaware model definitely wasn't helping.

"What did you do today?" The younger man asked and leant his head to the side.

Dean shrugged. In reality he'd been slightly bored as he had nothing to do and didn't know how to work any of Sam's new technology, "Not much really."

"If I'd known that you'd be here all day I would have showed you how to use some stuff..." He hung his head and slumped his shoulders.

Guilt passed through Dean like a wave. Sam hadn't expected him to still be hanging around so it wasn't the man's fault that he'd spent the majority of his time bored out of his wits. The hunter had also expected to be rescued by now. What was taking Castiel so long anyway?

"No, it's really okay. I spent most of my day catching up on sleep." It wasn't a complete lie as he'd slept for a good few hours and did actually feel better for it.

Sam peered around the clear space for a second before seemingly coming up with an idea so signalling to Dean that he'd only be a minute and that he'd be right back. With that, Sam shot into his bedroom while the hunter resigned himself to wait it out on the couch again with his bowl of cheesy pasta. That seems to be all he's capable of in this future world: sitting and eating. He hated to stereotype but he felt like an elderly person in an Apple shop asking what an iCloud is while Sam was like the hip youth buying apps and configuring all his devices... Maybe Sam would be more than that? Maybe he'd be an Apple genius with their seemingly unlimited knowledge of technology?

He missed the times when turning on a light with nothing more than a switch on the wall; even a button to turn lights on seemed futuristic in his time. Now everything was glass panels and clear bands that were, apparently, permanently attached to your wrist.

Sam ran back out of his bedroom with an almost inhuman amount energy. Even Dean didn't have that much enthusiasm and he'd done nothing more than sleep all day. The hunter found himself wondering if that was what all future people were like or if Sam was just always bounding around places. He could imagine Sam in his time running along the aisles of Walmart just because he fancied it. For some reason his mind liked the idea of getting to spend more time with Sam which was bizarre as Dean usually hated energized people. Sam had changed out of his suit and shirt and instead was in a plain T-shirt and black jeans.

"Here," Sam said as he jumped down the steps into the sunken lounge area, "Get up and I'll show you how to work the entertainment system."

Dean obeyed his command by moving away from his messy bed. Immediately, Sam grabbed the corners of the blanket and threw it over the bed so it was lain out flat. He then proceeded to push the button on the side of the couch so the sofa-bed retreated back into the plush, white couch that originally stood there. It was quite a spectacle so the shorter man could imagine a "Taadaa!" Once it had folded away by itself. Modern life seemed pretty easy. He'd rolled out quite a few sofa beds or blow up mattresses in his time but future beds seemed so much simpler. It was definitely a feature that he liked.

Once that was done Sam strode over to the kitchen and pulled a remote control out of one of the drawers. Although, this remote had only a handful of buttons which confused the hunter.

Upon returning to the couch, Sam collapsed down into his space and gestured for Dean to take the other. Still suspicious of the man's energy, Dean sat himself down slowly but didn't take his eyes off the man. Sensing the hunter's discomfort, Sam visibly calmed himself before addressing the other.

"I want you to have a go." He held out the small remote in his right hand as an invitation for Dean to reach out and take it.

Dean did go to take it but when the flesh of their hands collided he suddenly pulled back with a sharp gasp. As though Sam knew what the visitor was so shocked about, the tall man ducked his head and pulled his knees up so he could rest his forehead against them. He hid his right arm in the small gap between his chest and raised thighs. It was cradled close to his chest almost protectively. He didn't look up at Dean even after the man began to speak.

"You're ice cold!" Dean exclaimed. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were close to his hairline. Maybe all future people were cold? Maybe it isn't just Sam and now Dean's gone and unintentionally offended him? If Dean had messed up and upset Sam then he could be in trouble as he was the only human that he knew now.

"I know." Sam mumbled downwards as he refused to make eye contact.

Dean could see Sam's left hand rubbing up and down against the skin of his right. He assumed that he was attempting to create some heat.

"Why?" There was a pause so Dean asked more, "Is everyone like that?"

From the side profile of Sam, Dean saw his brow crease in frustration. Slowly, the future man turned his head to see his guest, "No, it's just me and maybe 2 other people worldwide."

"Why what's wrong?" He suddenly felt a deep concern for this practical stranger but he found that he didn't want to feel any other way towards this man.

A humorless chuckle escaped his pink lips as he gazed at the hunter, "Nothing is wrong with me. I got in an accident two, nearly three, years ago and I lost my arm. It was an accident in the lab where I work and since they were testing new robotics... They offered me one so I'd have two arms even if one is almost impossible to make seem warm and malfunctions every once in a while... It was only really experimental after all." He spoke as though he was ashamed of his replacement arm.

"Dude! You're like the terminator!" Dean cried in excitement.

Sam blinked at him for a moment, completely speechless. A smile began to form on his lips as he realised that Dean wasn't being negative about his arm, "How old is that movie reference?!" He laughed.

Many people looked at him differently once they learnt about his arm because most people these days would never choose to have robotics placed inside of them. Nobody fully trusts computers especially since the government had control over almost everything.

"Can I?" Dean asked, leaning his head. He reached out a timid hand.

Sam pulled his arm out from where he'd hidden it with uncertainty. Nobody ever asked to touch his arm but Dean was different! He didn't care that he had become a scientific experiment. Dean's fingers pressed softly against Sam's cold arm. The flesh that covered the mechanics tingled at his warm touch so Sam had to remind himself that Dean really wasn't interested like that.

The young hunter could just about feel the lumps of the machinery beneath the tanned skin. It wasn't really that noticeable beside the deep chill that constantly haunted Sam's arm. The flesh tried to keep up to temperature but the robotics below just sucked all the heat up almost instantly.

"It's not that bad." Dean reassured his friendly host as he touched Sam's skin. He almost wanted to pull Sam into his chest to keep him warm. He really didn't know where that protective swell had come from.

"People just tend to freak out about the whole idea of metal being there," He shrugged easily but it was easy to tell that the words of others had impacted him and his self confidence.

"It just looks so real." There was several fading scars along the flesh but Dean didn't want to push the man any further to give more private details.

The older man found himself wanting to feel Sam run his large hands over his own skin. He shook himself to dispel the thought. He peeped up, apparently Sam hadn't noticed Dean's brief zoning out.

"Well, it's taken years of work so now it usually is pretty smooth in action." He explained.

Dean was in utter awe, "So can you lift really heavy stuff?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I suppose so... I don't like to make a scene though..."

Dean took a moment to take in the man before him. His kindness and humbleness was amazing and had blown him away several times since their first encounter. As he was lost in the thoughts, his fingertips traced over the longest scar with delicate gentleness. Sam's hazel eyes followed the movement and tried to ignore the shiver that trickled down his spine.

"It malfunctions sometimes." Sam sounded like he was explaining something but Dean didn't understand what he was explaining. The hunter raised a eyebrow as he frowned so Sam elaborated, "I have the datum munus of Technological Advancement Developments so whenever it breaks down I can kinda fix it myself..."

"Wait... Firstly, datum munus? And secondly, you cut yourself open?" His jaw fell open.

"I think it is Latin for task given or something like that so basically my job which was assigned by the government... So it's what I have to do and yeah, I cut my arm open to access the core mechanics." To Sam, this seemed pretty normal as it was malfunctioning every few months or so which basically meant that he was used to performing an engineering project while pretty wacked out on pain suppressors.

"Dude... Has anyone ever told you that you're kinda badass? And that's coming from me!" He chuckled at Sam's confused expression.

"So... You're 'kinda badass' too," Sam made air quotes with his long fingers but still looked confused.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. Clearly, this was no longer a term that they used anymore but Dean wasn't exactly broken up at the idea. He didn't really like the slang of his time anyway.

"Yeah... I'm kinda badass as well."

"It's good?" The deep hazel of his irises seemed to darken as confusion clouded his bright eyes. Clearly Sam wasn't accustomed to be confused as he almost looked hurt that he didn't understand.

The hunter nodded, "Yeah, it's a good thing." He reassured the large man.

Sam processed the new information easily before moving back on topic and plucking the remote from where it had fallen on the clean couch. He handed it over to Dean again but this time the man was prepared for the chill of his flesh but Sam was grateful that he didn't mention anything about it again. He quickly explained the workings of the small device but it was relatively simple. The actual machines worked mainly by speech control and the few buttons only made the screen lower from where it'd been concealed inside the ceiling and the projector to also lower from over their heads and silently fire up. Sam taught him had to pick a film but wouldn't allow him to pick anything with recent news events in them like talk of real life earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. It also made Dean mildly suspicious when Sam explained to him how to access the past history section but wouldn't actually allow him to go there. What could he possibly be hiding? The older man vowed to discover Sam's secret.

Sam made them eat their food while Dean began watching a film about a spaceship crew being sucked into a blackhole and finding a parallel universe where each crew member had a different 'datum munus' so had never met or gone to space. They then spent the rest of the film trying to make their parallel-universe selves find each other. The hunter would have considered it a science fiction but Sam had laughed and simply promised him a trip to Mars before he got taken back to the early 21st century. They munched on the meat-type stuff as they watched even though Sam had seen it before.

It had grown late by the time that the movie had come to its sudden ending. Sam had explained that most the endings were very fast as people had short attention spans these days; Dean couldn't tell whether Sam was joking or not so simply nodded and smiled.

"I'd better be heading to bed." Sam muttered as he stretched up and his back clicked in several places. He pressed a few of the remote's buttons so the screen and projector rose away.

As Sam began to re-erect Dean's bed, the hunter made light conversation as he found that Sam was actually still interesting even though they'd been together for over 24 hours and he was really intelligent without making him feel stupid.

"So... projectors and screens aren't exactly high tech, Sam." He had a slight teasing note to his voice.

Sam chuckled as though he knew something that nobody else knew, "That's pretty old technology, yeah. We scrapped TVs,"He said the word uncertainly," a while ago as they were just so inefficient. Got to save our already destroyed planet, after all." There was a moment of silence as Sam straightened up the duvet on Dean's bed, "Anyway, you can't use our main entertainment system."

"Which is?" He encouraged.

"We have microchips inserted into our brains which can stream images into our heads," Sam smiled, "So we can watch movies in here." He tapped the side of his temple.

"Dude, that's cool!"

Sam laughed for a moment before glancing at the time on his band and sighing in a mild frustration. He enjoyed Dean's company and knew that if he disappeared during the night then he'd be truly upset. It was almost as though he'd found a friend in this bizarre time traveller that he'd taken into his home.

"Umm, Dean..." The hunter glanced up from where he was settling on the bed, "If you go tonight I just want you to know that I'm glad I met you... Do you want to borrow a pair of sweatpants?" Sam tacked the question on the end as he was scared of embarrassing the older man.

The corners of Dean's lips curled up at Sam's admission but he answered the question to try and stop the red blush from spreading further on Sam's high cheekbones, "Yeah, that'd be great."

The sweatpants were too long for him but they'd do for just sleeping and hanging around. He just hoped that when he did get taken back that his clothes wouldn't be left behind.


	5. Chapter 5

The Winchester woke the next morning to find a folded piece of paper sat beside him on the pure white pillow. He picked it up with hands clumsy from sleep and noted how the paper felt slightly plasticy in comparison to what he'd grown up with. Typed words marked the paper making Dean wonder if pens even existed in this time. He squinted at the page as he waited for his sleepy eyes to adjust.

 _Dean, I was surprised that you were still here! I didn't wake you as you looked pretty content. It seemed pointless disrupting you to just tell you that I'm off to work. Hope to see you soon, Sam._

The note was short and concise but Dean couldn't help but find it incredibly endearing to know that Sam didn't want to disrupt him up. Despite that, he kind of wished that Sam had woken him up because at least then they'd be able to say goodbye in case he went back to Castiel and Bobby.

The short ending of "Hope to see you soon" tightened around Dean's heart as he found himself hoping that he really would see Sam again.

* * *

For Dean, the day passed rather quickly in comparison to the previous. He spent the majority of the day lying in his crumpled blankets while watching movies that were listed in the classic section despite being created centuries after Dean's time. He had to admit that he found the movies reassuring as there wasn't quite so much technology in them as there is now.

He was pleasantly surprised when the front door opened with a mechanical buzzing of the lock. Dean glanced up, not at all ashamed that he'd only bothered to move when he needed to pee and eat, as his suited host entered into the apartment. Dean when to speak when he heard that Sam was in a heated conversation with an invisible someone; Dean then remembered that the bracelet could be used to call people but he had no idea how Sam was listening to the person as their voice didn't come out of anywhere.

"Look, I'm sorry but I've been tied up over the last few days. Yeah, I left early... Well, it's about time as I do enough overtime for that place... What? No. I can't meet up... I'm busy. What are you implying? I'm often busy thank you very much! ... Outside of work? I do plenty of things... Like what?! I don't feel like I should have to answer this... HOW DARE YOU! Goodnight, Charpie." Dean sat in open mouthed awe as he watched a previously calm and collected Sam release his wrath.

He sat in shocked silence as Sam took deep and steadying breaths. The man had always seemed in control but now, he was seething. Dean couldn't help but wonder who could anger the man in such a way. Maybe a girlfriend since the man must have someone in his life, Dean pondered. Some unfamiliar emotion stirred within him. Jealousy?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sam released a heavy breath, opened his eyes and padded over to the fridge without a word to Dean. The hunter briefly wondered if Sam had even noticed him. He could hear, but not see, the Sasquatch sized man moving around the kitchen with purpose.

The familiar clicking of glasses dragged Dean's mind off to the night before the time travel when he'd had a whiskey with Bobby and Castiel. The memory caused a pang of longing in his chest; he was longing to be home and with his only family.

* * *

~~~ Memory ~~~

"How ya feelin', son?" Bobby laid out three glasses on top of his desk where papers were strewn with organised chaos. They clinked noisily as he set them down.

Dean perked his head up to peer at the older hunter, "About tomorrow?" Bobby nodded in conformation, "Nah, I'm fine. What could possibly go wrong?" He chuckled as the other hunter poured some hunter's helper into the three glasses.

"Actually, Dean," Castiel interjected from where he was stood awkwardly in the centre of the room,"There is quite a few things th-" The angel started.

"Cas, don't worry about it." He reassured his friend, "Everything will be fine."

Bobby smiled and began handing out the whiskey amongst the occupants of the room. Dean accepted his gratefully while Castiel, on the other hand, seemed considerably suspicious of the golden liquid.

"To the past?" Bobby raised his class in order to propose a toast.

"The past!" Dean cried cheerfully before tipping the alcohol back with practiced ease along with Bobby.

Castiel took a few gulps to swallow it down and grimaced once he was finished. Dean had to fight the urge to laugh at his friend.

"That wasn't nearly as pleasurable as you both always make it out to be." He spoke flatly.

At that, both hunters in the room burst into laughter and didn't stop until they both had tears trailing down their cheeks and even the angel had a chuckle or two.

Dean was sure that everything would be fine the next day as Castiel had sent him to the past once before to see Samuel Colt so it was merely repeating that. Nothing could go wrong.

* * *

Dean snapped out of the memory as Sam collapsed down onto the bed beside him (Dean hadn't bothered trying to restore it back into a couch). Using the small side table, Sam poured generous amounts of a mystery alcohol into light blue tinted glasses. Dean could see the weight pulling down on the young man's shoulders.

"Rough day?" He asked soothingly.

Sam handed a glass to the hunter and took a sip from his own before speaking, "It was bearable until just then." He nodded his head in the direction of the door, where he'd had his call.

"Girl trouble?" Dean asked. For some reason he felt disappointed at the concept of Sam having a girlfriend. He didn't want to address whatever that was yet. He decided to store that away for further analysis later.

The suited man seemed confused and almost shocked for a moment before shaking his head, "Not technically. She's a girl and she's being a pain but it's not the traditional 'Girl trouble'. She's a family friend that is concern for my," He used air quotes,"'Lack of human interaction' and is certain that I'm a 'workaholic' with 'no life'." He explained.

"So... Why didn't you meet up with her?" Dean was curious now.

"Because... You're here and it'd be a wasted opportunity to allow you to just sit here without being questioned." Sam chuckled and it lit up his whole face. An unfamiliar knot formed in the hunter's stomach at the light sound that echoed around the white room.

"You work a lot?" Dean inquiried.

Sam shrugged and looked off to the side as though he would do anything to avoid the question. He lifted his shoulders and left them fall carelessly, "A bit. I have nothing better to do and I enjoy what I have been assigned... Is that so bad?"

Dean grunted noncommittally and gazed down at the light carpet. It obviously seemed that Sam liked his job, or what the was assigned to do by the government anyway, but clearly got stressed under the pressure of the task. It suddenly dawned on the hunter that he did actually know what Sam did. The tall had told him that he worked in some kinda of robotics or science but anything more than that hadn't been revealed.

"You've always done robotics?" Dean found himself leaning forward to engage more with the other man. He didn't realise he was doing so until it was already too late.

"Originally, my datum munus was law so I studied that for a year or so until suddenly, the government found themselves short of scientists so they basically sent out a request to a couple of hundred people to see if they'd take it up. It was a massive step up so I took it." Sam looked down toward the ground and he sighed deeply as though the thoughts weighed heavily upon him.

"What's wrong with that?" Dean reached out but stopped himself from actually touching his host. He wasn't sure whether Sam would welcome his attempt to comfort or simply push him away.

"I made an active choice to take the job... It meant that I had to move away from my family and anyone else who knew about my datum munus change. It's practically unheard of to change from the job that you're assigned. The government didn't want people to think that they could change whenever they want so if anyone changes, they try to cover it up." Sam shrugged.

The hunter pulled back to think it through, "Why'd you take it then?"

Sam chuckled slightly then. The laugh didn't hold much humor, "You think everyone gets to live like this? The divide between the rich and poor is bigger than ever before but we can't do anything. The government controls everything... I shouldn't be talking like this... Like one of those rebels. I could lose my job..."

The shorter man leant back against the back of the sofa, which was acting as the headboard, and let out a breath and low whistle, "Woah, man. I don't think I could live like that. No freedom at all."

Sam leant his head back and poured the remainder of his drink into his open mouth. The hunter sat enthralled as he watched Sam's throat swallow the liquid easily. His throat was suddenly bone dry so he moistened it with the alcohol. It was strong but nothing that Dean couldn't handle. He had also cleared his glass in a few more swallows.

The host lifted the bottle in an offering and Dean nodded, figuring that he had nothing to lose. They spoke sparsely as they remained beside each other on Dean's bed which felt somewhat intimate to Dean but the other man didn't seem to mind. They sipped at their drinks and Sam topped them up a few times as well. Dean was simply enjoying the taste of expensive liquor on his tongue and the company. He'd grown more accustomed to the cheap stuff that was more akin to burning alcohol than a fine drink.

"So, Dean Winchester," Sam wasn't exactly drunk but his whole demeanour was significantly relaxed and less sharp, "What about you?"

"Hmm?" He replied unintelligibly, "What?"

"Do you have a girl waiting for you back in early 2012?" He leant his head. Sam steeled himself so that he wouldn't be disappointed if the man admitted that he had a wife or girlfriend waiting for him.

"Pffft! Me? No way. I don't really do long term relationships. They're not really my thing." He laughed as he spoke, sipping from the light blue glass.

"Seriously? A looker like yourself?" There was a pause, "You say the word 'looker', right? I saw it on some old movie a few months back..."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah we do say it but no, I'm single and happily so."

Sam fought to stop the disappointment from being displayed on his face. He should have known that Dean wouldn't be interested but he'd thought for completely different reasons. Clearly Sam didn't have a chance with this man from the future for several reasons: one, Dean was happy being single and two, Sam was a man. The tall man tried to reassure himself that Dean was here on a temporary basis anyway so it really shouldn't matter that much to him.

Sam swallowed back the remainder of his drink before hauling himself up from the warm embrace of the bed. He grabbed both the glasses before putting them in the kitchen to be put in the dish washer. Even after copious amounts of alcohol, he wasn't really feeling much better.

The hunter watched his host with curious eyes. He couldn't help but wonder if Sam's sudden change in behaviour was his fault. Had he said something to offend the man?

Sam returned a few minutes later with two trays of steaming food. It looked like some form of pasta in a pale yellow sauce. Dean's stomach growled, telling him that maybe it was about time for something to eat. They ate in silence which made Dean feeling self conscious about what he'd said earlier. Guilt twisted in his stomach. What had he done?

That night passed quickly, mainly because Sam went off to bed early but also because he kept a steady stream of movies playing on the overhead projector. It almost seemed as though he was desperate to avoid conversation with the other man.

Now, more than ever, Dean was really missing home.

* * *

The sound of a pained groan through grit teeth pulled Dean from the least peaceful sleep he'd had since he'd arrived. He briefly wondered if it was about time to go home especially since awkwardness between himself and the other had ramped up.

He remembered what woken him when another hiss of pain and a light thumb came from the kitchen. Sitting up in bed, Dean peered around the darkness. The room was dark aside from one light that reached out of the kitchen.

Hesitantly, Dean pulled himself up and placed his feet against the soft plumpness of the carpet. He shuffled over to the kitchen, lead by the sounds of pain, with uncertain steps and was shocked by what he discovered there.

Sam was kneeling in the middle of the room with his hands grasping painfully tight around his skull. His pearl white teeth were forced together in a feeble attempt to control the obvious pain. Sweat beaded on Sam's neck and forehead as he held in groans of distress. Dean swallowed in shock.

"Sam?" The hunter rushed over to his friend and bent down beside him. The tall man simply fell to the floor with a thump and curled up on himself even more. His pained sounds only intensified.

"Sam?!" Dean knelt beside him, "What's happening?" He brushed Sam's sweaty bangs away from his face. His cool hands contrasted with the heat radiating off his host.

Sam unscrewed his hazel eyes just long enough to make out the other man, "Top cupboard," He panted out, "There is a tube of," He winced,"Kreniamalizal."

The hunter scrambled, hoisting himself up on the counter and reached for the first cupboard door. He searched at the top before beginning on the next. Predictably, the tube was in the very last cupboard he opened. Several tubes were lined up on the top shelf, most had the word 'Kreniamalizal' printed on it but there was one or two that were different.

The cold metal of the tube made it heavy and Dean stared at it uselessly. What was he supposed to do?

"Give it!" A large hand shot wildly into the air and, without hesitation, Dean obeyed the command.

He tried to ignore the large warning signs that were printed on the tube. The hunter assumed that it must have been some seriously strong stuff to carry so many warnings.

The man balled up on the floor grabbed the tube and held it to his neck, above the bloodstream. He pushed his thumb into the other side of the tube and a hissing sound emitted from the device. Instantly, the tension in Sam's shoulders began to melt away. For each second the hissing continued, the less the man seemed to be hurting.

Almost 5 minutes later and the tall man collapsed against the hard counters as he steadied his breathing. The hunter had stood and stared in scared shock. Not a word had been passed since the initial response but Dean slide down the cupboards opposite Sam silently.

The other man glanced up at him as though he'd only just registered his presence, "Thanks for that."

He snapped himself out of the daze, "What the hell was that?!"

Sam shifted uncomfortably but a sincere expression pulled at his features. The thought of how adorable he looked like this may or may not have crossed Dean's mind. Although, somehow he'd grown used to these thoughts over the last few days.

"It's a really long story." Sam tried to deter the conversation but, as Sam would come to learn, Dean was very persistent.

"Good thing I have time."

Sam stops to breath and think through how to explain what just happened to his guest, "Every person gets a micro-chip on their 16th birthday and that is kinda like how the government sends out latest news or for everyday entertainment uses too. Anyway, I got mine when I was 16, like everyone else, but within a few months it became loose."

Dean blanched, "Loose?! How is that possible?"

"I don't know. The wiring from the chip to my brain isn't as it should be so whenever there is news announcements or if I try to watch films then it hurts like absolute hell," Sam gestured towards the old projector in the other room, "Which explains the super old technology." He sighed.

"And that was what that was?"

Sam nodded, "Earlier today, they sent out news which sucked but then there was a painful high pitched sound since then. It was just made 100 times worse a few minutes ago when they released a news statement about tomorrow. I was on my way to get the painkiller when I collapsed."

"Woah, man." He said inarticulately, "That is really bad for you."

"I've got used to the pain so usually it doesn't effect me." He answered honestly.

"Can't you get it removed?"

Sam shook his head, "It's hopeless; the government won't help."

Sam pulled himself up before offering a hand to help haul Dean back to his feet. The hunter placed his hand against Sam's muscular shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. He may have lingered there a few seconds too long but it probably didn't matter.

"I'd better get back to sleep," Sam mumbled as he peered away from the man. He hoped that it hid his blush at the contact.

"Cuz' they'll fire you, right?" Dean recalled.

Sam smiled, "Yep, strictest government you'll ever see."

Dean laughed and Sam also laughed before they went their separate ways and got into their separate beds.

* * *

A week later-

The more time the men spent around each other, the more they realised that maybe they were both falling from someone that lived years away from them. Neither mentioned it but they both knew that when Dean returned then they'd probably never speak again. Despite this, the hunter had expressed his hope that one day soon he'd get to go home.

* * *

Sam loved his job and anyone could bare witness to that statement. He took a huge amount of pride in what he did and that shone through in the products he produced. So, Sam adored his job but today he simply couldn't focus.

The keys below his hovering hands remained lifeless as his mind wandered away from the task at hand: writing up a report on his latest technological development; the idea of having your band layered into your very skin freaked many people out but Sam was determined that it was the way to go. His mind had been stuck on Dean instead of developing the words to insert into the document.

Every second longer he spent around the man made him love his mannerisms, actions and turn of phrase even more. The close proximity was making it harder for him to deal with himself when that type of situation arose. It's not like its socially accepted to just leave mid-conversation because you need to deal with the bulge in your trousers.

His guest was plaguing his mind which Sam didn't like as he'd always managed to be calm, cool and collected practically all the time. Dean had thrown his organised life into utter chaos but he couldn't resent him for it.

He bit his lips and resolved himself to focus on the words that he should be typing out onto the holographic keys of the computer system. He knew that any work he was producing now would be sub-par therefore, wasn't acceptable.

An idea suddenly hatched in his head and he vowed to pick something up before he left work tonight. Sometimes, he really was lucky to work with all this amazing technology.

* * *

At the same time, Dean was lounging out on the bed whilst staring at the blank ceiling as he fantasised about Sam just strolling in here and fucking Dean right now. He knew it'd probably be awkward if Sam was to walk in while Dean had his hand down his pants but surely Sam could understand that a man has needs. Even if he was moaning Sam's name at the same time...

Distraction, he decided a few minutes afterwards. Immediately, he reached for the remote that controlled the projector and flipped it on. He'd not been watching that many films and instead had been spending a majority of his time researching the future although, he had promised Sam not to look for spoilers about the early 21st century.

He browsed for a little while before growing bored and impatient so instead he began scrolling through the history of recently view films and videos. Curiosity colored Dean when he noticed that about a week before his arrival, Sam had been watching films rated in the mature adult section. He was shocked as Sam didn't seem like that kind of guy although, he'd only known him for about two weeks.

For some reason, he clicked the most recent adult film and his jaw drops in shock.

Two barely dressed men were on screen, each with unrealistically sized cocks hidden behind the thin material of their underwear. Dean watched the scene that went down in front of him in shock.

It was gay porn! What could this mean? Was Sam gay? Or was it an accident? Dean checked more of the watched films and founds that a trend of gay themes emerged. Sam's gay? Hope blossomed in the hunter's chest. Did he have a chance with the man?! He really hoped so.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was late home that night which was unusual as Sam's life ran like clockwork. So, automatically, Dean was suspicious of what could possibly be wrong. He wondered if maybe their discussion last night of Dean's longing to go home might have made Sam feel down. Had he seemed ungrateful of Sam's hospitality or maybe made Sam feel like Dean didn't want to be around him anymore? Guilt washed over him like a crashing wave. He didn't want Sam to feel unwanted, not when he liked him so much.

A small part of him wondered if perhaps the younger man knew what Dean had discovered in the film history. Although, he dismissed the thought as that would be ridiculous. He was just being a paranoid hunter, right?

The older man left the kitchen, where he'd been standing awkwardly, and made in the direction of Sam's bedroom, where the man had hidden himself away for the last few hours. Dean knocked hesitantly.

"Sam?" He called.

"One minute!" There was a sound of rapid moving and items being pushed around.

Dean had to wait almost two minutes before Sam finally peeped his head around the door. The tall man had a large smile but he looked almost stressed. His eyes crinkled in the corners, in the way that Dean found heart wrenching. He really hated having to pine over this man.

"Yeah?" Sam leant against the doorframe, stopping Dean's nosy view. His head was leant in that way that made him look concerned, caring and curious at the same time.

"I was wondering if I could talk with you..." He started awkwardly. Heart to heart conversations were not his strong point.

Sam nodded eagerly, "Of course. What about?" Shutting the bedroom door, he led the way over to the couch.

He sat down gently onto the plump fabric while his brows furrowed and he gestured for Dean to sit beside him. The hunter lowered himself down but didn't look Sam in the eye (he didn't want this to be any more awkward).

"Are you... Avoiding me?" He breached the topic carefully.

Sam recoiled,"Why would I be avoiding you?!"

"Well... You came home later than usual then barely stopped to say hello before you hurried off into your room... I couldn't help but think that maybe something I said last night... Might have offended you?"

Their minds were both cast back to the evening before when they were both sat on the sofa sipping from cool beers and trading stories. Dean had spoken a lot about his car, or Baby as he called it, and how much he missed simply driving her. He'd also mentioned his uncle Bobby, who wasn't actually related to him, and friend, Castiel (Who happened to be the one to send him into the future). He expressed how he longed to be back home with them, just like it used to be.

They'd learnt a lot about each other and Dean had leant that apparently angels were widely known about these days even if the feathery creatures didn't turn up all that often. It was a shock at first but eventually Dean simply accepted it as fact.

"Offended me how?" He was confused.

"Like... When I kept saying how I missed home and wanted to be there." The green eyed man explained.

"What? Of course that didn't offend me!" He chuckled, "You're stuck in a different time period. You're entitled to some home sickness!"

"You really didn't mind?"

Sam hit against his shoulder gently in a playful manner, "Of course not! If I were you, I'd be terrible! I'd be moaning all the time and basically complaining... Even though I don't really have much here."

Dean laughed slightly and suddenly saw an open opportunity to start a conversation topic, "So you seriously have no girlfriend or whatever?"

Sam suddenly tensed a bit and peered at the pale carpet, "I don't really date all that much..."

"No?" He was honestly shocked; Sam was a looker and had the nicest personality to go with it. He was so giving and honest. Dean hadn't met anyone quite like him before. Nobody else held that spark so why weren't guys (As discovered from the movie history.) throwing themselves at him? Dean knew that if he'd been alive around this time then he'd totally be constantly flirting with the man. He'd become unexpectedly comfortable with his newly discovered homosexuality (or perhaps bisexuality?).

"I... Umm, no." A red flush was growing up his neck and cheeks.

"So no girlfriend ever?" Sam shook his head to answer,"Or boyfriend?"

Sam's head shot up and his eyes widened dramatically, "W-What?"

"You haven't had a boyfriend either?" Dean tried to keep his expression open and kind.

"Well... No but...but..." Sam stuttered in confused uncertainty.

"What?" Dean questioned, "Did you think that I'd be against it?"

"... Aren't you?" Perhaps everything Sam thought he knew about the early 21st century was wrong. Maybe they didn't burn gay people on the stake and persecute them?

"Not at all! I've recently discovered... Some stuff about myself anyway," Dean admitted.

"What do you mean?" He leant his head in the way that pulled at Dean's heart strings.

"Well, let's just say that up until recently I'd thought that I was straight."

Sam's jaw dropped and he had to remind himself to shut his mouth. He blinked for a second before speaking again, "What made you realise?" He asked innocently but with genuine interest.

Dean swallowed. He wasn't prepared for this question at all! What was he supposed to say? He could just admit it but then Sam would know and everything would grow awkward until Dean finally returned home. He bit his lip in a nervous habit before steeling himself and taking a breath.

"Well, I met you."

There was silence.

"I'm sorry... What?" Sam's brow furrowed and suddenly it seemed like a massive mistake but it was way too late to back out now.

"I thought I only liked girls until I met you..."

"Seriously?" Hoped gleamed in Sam's hazel eyes and suddenly everything seemed okay.

Blushing, Dean answered, "Haha, yeah."

The hunter looked up to see Sam gazing at him in awe and adoration. It took him by surprise but he couldn't deny that he loved the attention the man was showering him with. Without thinking too much, Dean leant forward and held the side of Sam's face in his hand. He pulled Sam closer to him until their lips bumped together gently. Dean automatically took control, as he was used to, but Sam didn't fight it. Instead, he learnt from Dean (especially since he was still kind of new to it all) and followed his lead. It was passionate but sweet. Basically summing up them as a pair. Tongues traced over lips and danced around the other's. Sam moaned in satisfaction into Dean's mouth and the elder man couldn't help but smile.

Sam's hands found their way to the back of Dean's neck whilst the hunter's fingers tangled in Sam's long hair. They separated after a little while and their lungs begged for oxygen.

They panted for a while, going from grinning at each other and looking around them.

Sam spoke first, "Oh and I'm gay... By the way." He felt significantly more confident saying it now then he would have 20 minutes ago.

Dean chuckled and shook his head, "Yeah, I know."

"What?! How?!" He asked, shocked.

"I was looking for movies and I discovered your watch history..." The smile remained on his face in the hopes of putting his host at ease.

"Oh... I was gunna delete that." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, don't worry. It helped me learnt more about you." He laughed.

Sam's face went as red as a tomato and he hid his face in his oversized hands.

"No, Sam!" Dean pulled his hands away so he could see his handsome face, "It was good! I liked you anyway but it gave me hope that I could have a chance!"

Sam turned to look directly into his face. His legs were crossed, like a kindergarten child, and his back was leaning against the arm of the couch. Dean had never seen Sam sit like this on any of his chairs; he looked so casual. Dean smiled and leant forward to place another gentle kiss against his soft lips. He mainly did it to assure Sam that he enjoyed it and would keep doing it for as long as he was able but he also did it simply because Sam always looked so good.

"Dean." Sam blushed. He said the other man's name but had no sentence planned to continue talking. The red bloomed over his cheeks making Dean smile.

"Yes, Sammy?" He said teasingly.

There was a brief period of silence before Sam covered his red face with his hands again, "I don't know!"

They both laughed until their sides hurt and a significant amount of time had passed. They remained on the couch together happy with the close proximity. Sam was staring off into the distance, clearly lost in his thoughts, which gave Dean an opportunity to study the man. His long hair was tussled from the laughing and his cheeks were still a little pink. He had to fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him again. Almost a week and three days after first meeting and Dean still couldn't get over the other man. Everything about him simply shone. He had to stop staring when Sam turned around to address him.

"How about some food?" Sam asked.

"Sure. Can I help this time?" Dean inquired.

The taller man looked slightly confused, "If you really want to... But it's not exactly hard."

"Yeah but I wanna help." The hunter pressed.

"Fine. Of course you can help." He smiled as he got up and started to walk over to the kitchen.

* * *

Sam had been right about the food. Aside from adding water and heating, there really hadn't been much for him to do. Food these days is all about convenience, according to Sam anyway. It was a beef stew and Dean had to admit that it was particularly delicious but he wasn't sure if that was just his bias as he'd helped out. They always say that food tastes better when it's earned.

They sat at the breakfast bar as they ate. The silence had dragged on but Dean had already learnt that Sam isn't that great when it comes to social situations. Dean could feel Sam steeling glances at him every few minutes. It was clear that a question was burning on the tongue of his companion. Not wanting to put his host through any unnecessary awkwardness, he peered up at him when he felt eyes on him next.

"You have a question."

"Yes." It hadn't been a question but Sam answered as though it was.

"And?" He said expectantly.

There was a moment as the tall man tried to figure out how to phrase it, "What is this?"

"This?" He was confused.

Sam gestured at the space between their bodies to indicate 'them' as he raised his eyebrows.

Dean understood, "Oh, us? ... I don't know. What do you want us to be?"

"Umm, what do you call the person you're in a relationship with in your time?" Sam's brow was crinkled as he fought to remember the term.

"Boyfriend?"

"We use the term 'partner'" Sam educated him.

"If you wanted to... You could be my partner?" Dean proposed.

Sam pondered for a second, "And you would be my boyfriend?"

They grinned at each other and Sam watched the way that tiny wrinkles made Dean's skin crinkle up around his eyes. He adored that about the man. Something suddenly dawned on the taller man and his smile dropped like a stone.

"Is this wise, Dean?" He looked genuinely distressed as though he'd suddenly realised that there was a giant flaw in their plan. The pained look in his deep hazel eyes hurt Dean to witness. Sam should never look like this.

"Why not?"

"You're going to be gone any day now and it'd all be for nothing." He explained solemnly. The silver fork picked at the food lying cold on his rectangular plate. His eyes were downcast like he was scared of disappointing the man he had feelings for.

With a sigh, Dean had to accept that maybe Sam was right. It would be a nasty blow for them to grow used to each other, only to be pulled apart. Sometimes he wished that Castiel wasn't back in the past trying to bring him home. Although, he really didn't fit in with this time. He missed home, Bobby and Cas but he'd already grown fond of his new friend. It's be a shame to simply leave him knowing that they'd never get to speak ever again.

Dean also started to pick at his food; he'd suddenly lost his appetite. All of a sudden, the food seemed unappealing or maybe it was just the thought of him returning home that had put him off the dinner. He poked at a piece of beef in its sauce.

Sam looked up as Dean responded, "I suppose you're right." As soon as he'd admitted, it he regretted it. It seemed final when they both agreed whereas there was still hope when it was merely Sam putting forward an idea. In a way, he wished that he'd just dismissed the comment and kept a glimmer of hope that maybe they could work out.

It was obvious that Sam was also hoping for Dean to disagree as his shoulders slumped slightly and his gaze returned to the food. Why did this conversation have to come up now? Dean felt guilty for making his friend feel bad and everything had tuned out so terrible. The hunter felt that maybe it was his responsibility to get the conversation back to normal so his mind searched for possible talking points. They couldn't dwell on the impossible, right?

"So," He found the courage to start, "What were you doing earlier?"

Sam froze and slowly lifted his head. He swallowed.

"I was... Just doing some stuff for work." He sounded hesitant which made the other man slightly suspicious.

"Doing what?"

Sam clearly wasn't comfortable being interrogated as he shifted in his seat, "Just working on a prototype." Hazel eyes seemed fascinated with the cold food on the plate.

Dean seemed to perk up slightly, "Is it cool? Can I see it?"

"Umm, it's mostly just circuitboards and wires at the moment... How about I show you once I've worked on it some more?" He sounded uncertain of himself, "Although I shouldn't even be working on it at home. Top secret government projects and everything." He lied.

"Right," The hunter didn't sound convinced, "Of course."

"So, if you don't mind, I've got some work to do... But I'll see you tomorrow?" Sam's eyes seemed to beg him to play along and agree. Dean couldn't do anything but simply nod his head and offer a weak smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam felt as though he was working against the clock. His hands felt clumsy with the thin wires and that's without mentioning the circuitboards which kept slipping from between his fingers. His eyes kept coming in and out of focus, not because he was tired, because his eyes had been straining for so long. He'd confined himself to his bedroom for the last few hours but it practically felt like days.

All of his hard work has amounted to no more than a couple of wired circuitboards lying on the dark green mat that he'd lain out to protect the surface of the desk. He groaned in frustration and wanted to throw the work across the room so it would shatter against a wall. He calmed himself and repeated the mantra that this was all for Dean.

The idea of building the man his own time machine was ambitious but at least any work he did wouldn't be wasted if Dean suddenly disappeared tomorrow as the people in the lab would probably want to see his efforts. He'd been thinking about how much Dean missed home when the idea come to him while at work. It'd been easy enough to get some parts together as he was always working on projects at home so it was pretty commonplace for him to be popping in and out of the room of parts.

He knew that it'd take him months to get anywhere near as close as they were at the lab so he knew to start early. The plan was to get it all up and running without the other man finding out about Sam's plan.

With recent developments on the relationship front, maybe it would be better to get rid of Dean sooner rather than later. He didn't want this to get too strained between them.

Sam finally packed away his tools and the beginnings of the device when his eyelids were starting to droop and he knew that his curfew would hit anytime soon.

He hoped that maybe he'd get some more opportunities to work on it without Dean realising what is going on.

* * *

Dean peered up at his watch from where he was lying in his bed. It was the first night that he'd actually had to put his own bed out but after over a week, he'd learnt how to do it. It was almost one, Sam's curfew, but the man hadn't come out to say goodnight; Dean couldn't figure out whether he was disappointed by that or not.

The light, which bled out from beneath Sam's door, had just flicked out signalling that Sam had headed to bed. Dean wondered whether this was what Sam would usually do in the night time and had grown bored of him. As a result, had just gone back to how it was before. He really hoped not as he liked Sam and didn't want to waste time while the man worked.

He considered if maybe in the next few days, Sam would take him outside somewhere just to get a change of scenery. A hunter rarely remained in one place, apart from in a hospital but even then they'd usually make a dash a few weeks before their release date. Maybe Sam would be too busy to take him somewhere?

He eventually fell asleep dreaming about Sam and running away from possessed nurses together back in 2012. He couldn't decide whether it was a nightmare or pleasant dream. The idea of Sam coming home with him certainly was positive though.

* * *

Three days later and it was the day Dean had been waiting for, Sam had the Saturday off and they were running low on supplies so he'd need to make a run to the store. The idea thrilled the hunter.

"Can I come too?" He was practically bouncing on his seat at the breakfast bar. "Please?"

Sam chuckled, Dean acting like an overexcited puppy made him laugh, "Okay but one condition: no talking to future people. You never know what the might ruin for you."

"Of course!" Dean agreed eagerly.

"Okay then. You ready?"

* * *

The store was largely underwhelming. Dean shared this thought with Sam but the younger man had merely shrugged and had warned him that it wasn't going to be anything exciting. The hunter peered around the large warehouse sized room in distaste. Instead of the aisles that he'd grown accustomed to, there were just rows upon rows of touch screen machines with some sort of table attached to each one. Dean estimated that there was probably around one hundred of the machines.

Many people were stood tapping the machines as the two men passed them. The store was relatively busy so they had to walk down a few rows until they found a spare machine. Dean felt like a child in a new environment. Instantly, as though he sensed his discomfort, Sam was smiling reassuringly. The tenderness in his face made Dean's heart swell slightly. God, he really was falling for this one.

Sam approached the machine and, with the skill of someone experienced, he swiped his wrist band to begin selecting items displayed on the touchscreen. The hunter noticed Sam picked out a couple of sets of clothes for him. Dean stared, enthralled. The taller man worked fast so the other didn't have much time to ogle but it was about enough. Finishing, Sam re-swiped his wrist band causing the machine to beep at him, "Thank you for visiting, Dr Wesson."

As Sam led the way to the collection point, Dean questioned him.

"Dude! You've got a doctorate?!" He found himself shouting. People around them frowned at him so he became quieter. He couldn't quite figure out if being quiet was a rule or if these people were just anti-social.

"Yeah," Sam answered easily, "It's another reason why I took the job offered by the government: it included a kinda rare doctorate. So they trained me up, educated me for the job and yeah... I got it."

"That's really amazing, Sam!" He enthused.

The tall man flushed embarrassed but had to act natural when the worker at the collection point handed him over his bags with a flirtatious smile. She obviously had a thing for Sam and for some reason Dean felt territorial as a result. Maybe the whole not going out with was a really bad idea.

* * *

It was two days later when Dean was forced back into consciousness as his whole body tensed as his stomach sloshed. A wave of nausea washed over him but the pitch black around him offered no sympathy.

"Sam!" He called out when he took a gulp of air.

The feeling of something forcing itself up his throat made him gag and lean towards the side of the bed. He gagged again as he could hear someone calling his name somewhere around him but he was too disoriented to place them.

Vomit was being forced from his throat just as a bucket was pushed under his face. With the reassurance that he wasn't making a mess, he allowed himself to get rid of the substance that his stomach had rejected. Vaguely, he sensed someone stroking his shoulder back and forth in a comforting gesture. He couldn't remember anyone ever being there to comfort him whenever he'd been sick in the past.

He could feel the sweat clinging to his forehead and it was making his night shirt stick to his back in the most disgusting way; he felt sopping wet.

Once he'd emptied his stomach, he lifted his head only to be greeted by the concerned face of Sam. His hazel eyes looked burdened by guilt and sympathy.

"Sam." He muttered uselessly. Pain shot through his temple making him wince. His head throbbed and he could feel himself overheating.

"It's okay, Dean." Sam answered honestly.

Sam extended his long legs, standing up and taking the bucket with him. He took the bucket out to the bathroom where he flushed the contents and poured disinfectant vapours around it. When he returned to the living room, Dean was practically delirious. The fever had gotten to the hunter so the taller man collected a cool pack from his freezer and placed it against the ill man's head.

"Sammy?"

"Yes, Dean?" Sam answered patiently.

"What are we gunna do with the groceries?" He mumbled senselessly as he peered around the room in a desperate search for the bags.

"No, Dean," Sam stroked the tips of his hair away from his sweat drenched forehead, careful not to knock the cooling pack, "We did that on the weekend."

Dean seemed to suddenly remember; he started nodding enthusiastically, "Yes! But dude... You're a doctor... Am I sick?"

"I'm not that kind of doctor but yeah, you're definitely sick." He chuckled slightly.

Dean seemed content so he settled back against his white pillows with a sigh. He murmured to nobody, "Maybe I should tell baby..."

Sam recoiled where he was kneeling beside Dean's bed. His eyes widened and eyebrows rose, "Baby?"

"Mmm... Baby." His eyelids were drooping and words formed slower signalling that maybe Sam should leave him too sleep. An image of the classic midnight black Impala rose through Sam's thoughts. Dean had forced him to search the car during a late night conversation recently.

Sam rose from where he was and strode over to his bedroom to make a direct call, DC, to his work. There was a little time till he was due in but he'd never taken a day off before so didn't know the protocol. For some reason, he felt vaguely nervous as he scrolled through the contacts on his bracelet. He hoped that Jess, his co-worker, wouldn't mind him missing work to take a personal day. He'd never used any before so technically he had loads stacked up from the last few years.

He winced when the call connected as it went through his microchip. He didn't have to wait long before it was picked up, clearly Jess was already in the lab.

"What causes the Great and Powerful Sam Wesson to be calling at this time?" She teased him gently as she greeted him. He never called in the mornings as he usually stuck to his strict regime to ensure that he was never late. She liked to tease him about his routines.

"Hey, Jess. I'm not going to be in today..." He told her without preamble. He didn't want to leave Dean alone for too long.

"You're sick?" Concern colored her tone and she grew serious. Sam was never sick. Most people these days were rarely sick but Sam was amongst the lucky few that had a sickness maybe once or twice in his whole lifetime.

Sam hesitated awkwardly, "Umm, no... I'm taking one of my personal days..."

"Is everything okay?" She rushed to ask.

Sam fiddled with his bracelet, eager to disconnect. He wanted to stay beside Dean just in case he was sick again but too delirious from fever to stop himself either choking or vomiting all over Sam's cream carpet. He liked Jess but he liked Dean even more and the man was ill.

"Yeah! Yeah! I'm... Just... Got guests over... I didn't think that they'd still be here now." He tried to explain without revealing everything.

There was a beat of silence as Jess considered his half-truth, "Sam Wesson... Did you get yourself laid?"

"What?! No?!" He cried in shock.

For some reason, Jess had always taken a strange interest in Sam's love life. It started when he told her that he was gay; maybe it was because every girl wants a gay best friend so she took a vested interest.

"Fine. Whatever you say, Wesson." She dismissed easily.

Sensing that the call was coming to an end, Sam rushed to finish the call and finally disconnect, "Thanks, Jess! I'll make it up to you!"

She snorted, "No need. You're owed about a billion personal days anyway." Sam laughed before bidding his farewells and disconnecting.

At least that went well, he thought.

* * *

"Dean?" Sam shook his shoulder to rouse the older man.

He balanced the bowl of tomato and herb soup in his right hand as he tried to extract Dean from his feverish slumber. He was cautious of spilling the boiling liquid on top of this patient; that wouldn't be good nursing.

"Come on, De." He muttered distractedly as he attempted to prop Dean up against the pillows.

The older man blinked open his eyes and yawned before peering around the large, open space. He noted that he was shirtless which he hadn't been when he dressed for bed last night. His eyes stopped roaming when they landed on Sam's kind face. He blinked again before speaking.

His voice rasped in his throat and it felt as dry as the Sahara desert, "Sam?" He glanced down at the soup in Sam's large hands, "Ergh, I feel terrible... And look terrible too, I bet."

Sam chuckled, "Dean Winchester could never look anything less than drop-dead gorgeous." He blushed when he realised that his thoughts had actually come out of his mouth. He wasn't supposed to be coming onto the man! They'd agreed that a relationship wouldn't do right now.

Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked. Even sick he looked breathtaking and Sam hated him for that fact.

Realising that Sam was embarrassed, Dean quickly moved on, "How long was I asleep?"

"Almost 10 hours... But at least you're feeling better now." Sleep was always the best cure.

Sam placed the dark bowl on the side table and collected some of the red liquid onto the spoon. Tiny squares of green herb danced around the bowl as the spoon unsettled the tomatoey liquid that carried them. Sam lifted the spoon, blew on it to cool it and took the smallest sip from the very tip of the spoon. His tongue poked out, both cleaning the red off as well as testing the taste and temperature.

"Here," Sam lifted the spoon to Dean's lips despite that he'd just sipped from that spoonful of soup. The hunter opened his mouth and Sam fed him the warm food. The liquid soothed the soreness of his throat.

The process repeated with Sam blowing in the red spoonful each time but never again drinking any again. To Dean, it seemed somewhat intimate but Sam just seemed happy to be able to care for him and nurse him back to health.

To begin with Dean couldn't understand why Sam was choosing to spend all the time feeling him; that was until he tried to lift his arm but instead found himself unable to even twitch. He panicked for a moment before Sam explained to him that he was suffering from an illness which was pretty common these days but people rarely fell ill with it because their immune system had developed defences against it. Dean, on the other hand, was completely open to the sickness taking home within his body. A side effect of time travel.

They were extremely close as Sam was kneeling on the floor beside his bed. It seemed kind of endearing that Sam had stayed beside him all this time. He didn't doubt that Sam had spent the last few hours by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up or maybe choke on some vomit.

The soup was quickly gone, leaving the dark bowl and spoon empty. Sam took them away to be cleaned, as efficient as always. It was then that he realised that Sam isn't usually here during the day so what was he doing home?

"You're not working?" His voice rasped out.

Sam lifted some water to his lips and waited for him to start sipping from the liquid before offering an answer, "I took a day off." He said plainly, focusing on the small sips of water Dean was swallowing down.

Even when sick, Dean's green eyes managed to sparkle like no other human being's that Sam had even encountered. Did everyone from 2012 have eyes that danced with emotion? Did everyone just have dead eyes these days?

"You shouldn't have taken a day off for me!" He tried to shout but the illness restricted his voice.

"Oh, please. You'd be dead if I hadn't been here to drug you up every few hours." Sam seemed kind of proud that he'd managed to keep Dean alive this long.

It had been a nightmare and, quite frankly, Dean was lucky to have been unconscious for the majority of it. The constant spiking of temperature, muscle spamming and vomiting had been enough to keep Sam on his toes for the whole day. They were the reduced effects too; the constant doses of Goreborpamien had been enough to keep Dean's suffering relatively mild.

"You put that stuff into me?!" He was horrified! Knowing Sam's government, it was probably spiked and he was now being tracked by the CIA or something. Or perhaps his delusional brain was making things up again? This sickness truly sucked.

Sam leant back slightly and raised his hands defensively. Even though he didn't want to admit it, Dean longed for Sam to come closer again. He longed for the close proximity.

"Hey," the tall man chuckled lightly, "I had no choice. You could have died, buddy."

"It's that serious?" His neck aches when he leant his head to the side.

The future-man nodded solemnly, "It was one of the biggest killers until we got these vapours that spray about the city like once a week. It sort of gives us immunity to certain diseases but you've obviously not been outside all that much."

"Is that a promise of more outside trips?" He asked hopefully. He liked Sam's apartment, despite its minimalism, but it had grown boring within his first few days.

Sam pursed his lips but was obviously thinking, "Fine but only once you're back to normal."

Dean yawned, exposing the back of his throat to the world, "Yeah, yeah. Obviously." He muttered as a weariness over took him.

Sam laughed at him but patted his leg beneath the blanket, "Get some more sleep. Maybe once you wake up, you'll be able to move your arms and legs some more."

That was all the encouragement the hunter needed to shuffle further into the blankets and close his eyes. He could feel sleep creeping up on him as his body grew heavier and thoughts slowed. The last thing that Dean thought was about how strange it was that he'd grown to trust Sam so quickly. The man could still be planning to kill him in his sleep.

* * *

 _"DEAN WINCHESTER!" A gruff voice called from the distance and instantly Dean knew that Bobby had called more than once already; he could hear the impatience in his tone, "GET YA LAZY ASS OUTTA BED BEFORE I KICK IT OUT!"_

 _The hunter cracked open his eyes to see sunlight streaming through the slit in the thin, light yellow curtains. The long rectangle of light stretched across the foot of his bed and over the old, squeaky wooden floor boards. The thin blankets were twisted around his legs were he'd tossed and turned throughout the night._

 _Bobby's house had always felt like home after his mom had died at the hands of the yellow eyed demon and his father had fled Kansas with a young Dean in his arms. The bedroom, which he'd woken up in, hadn't changed in all the years he'd been staying. A few articles of his clothing lay in the cupboards and wardrobe where he'd left them over the years; much of it didn't fit him anymore as his 16 year old self had left them._

 _He dressed quickly, anxious not to keep Bobby waiting too long. The familiar creak of the floorboards on the old staircase accompanied his descent like an off key orchestra. He loved the familiarity of it. It reminded him of home and of all the times he'd attempted, mostly unsuccessfully, to sneak out at night. He was feeling particularly reminiscent this morning._

 _The house was near silent which was bizarre as usually it was rare for a minute to go by without the buzz of a phone ringing or Bobby talking with some hunter about another hunt. The silence felt uncomfortable and almost made Dean feel claustrophobic. In a house specialised to the supernatural, a silence is the eeriest thing you could come across. He swallowed but began the search for Bobby. He had to be around somewhere, right? He'd heard him calling._

 _His study, kitchen and bathroom were all empty. It was there that Dean decided to try the yard. Perhaps they had planned to fix up an old car together? He couldn't really remember anything from yesterday although, he did have a weird dream last night._

 _It was immediately that Dean found himself in the yard about 100 foot or so from where Bobby was under the hood of Baby. He knew that something wasn't right. He didn't remember walking out there. Something was definitely going on. The midday sun beat down on him making the beginnings of a heavy sweat trickle down his neck._

 _"Bobby?" Dean called out uncertainly as he approached the old hunter. Bobby glanced over his shoulder but didn't fully turn._

 _"Yeah, ya idjit. Who else would it be? The Easter bunny?" There was a beat of silence where Bobby glanced over the younger man, "Nice to see ya finally got outta bed."_

 _Dean leant against the door of the impala, on the driver's side, so he could still see the man but could also lean back. For some reason, he felt tired and his limbs felt heavier than normal as though he'd spend the whole day previous lifting weights._

 _"I had the weirdest dream." He spoke towards the yard but knew that Bobby would listen._

 _The old man grunted disinterestedly, "Is that so?"_

 _"Mmm, I dreamt that I was in the future." He continued despite Bobby's obvious lack of interest._

 _"Well, you know what they say..." Bobby contained fiddling with the engine._

 _"What do they say?" He urged after he'd waited but the man hadn't spoken._

 _"That the future is now." He answered simply._

 _Dean frowned and mouthed the words silently to try and understand, "What do you mean?"_

 _Bobby huffed and straightened up so he could look Dean directly in the eye, "We are always on the verge of the future. In one second time? That's the future so it's always here and always now."_

 _"The future is now." Dean repeated, savouring the words on his tongue, "I think I like that. Sam would have liked it too. He's smart like that."_

 _"Sam?" Bobby asked in confusion. He peered at the young man with a crease in his brow._

 _The sound of quiet voices caught Dean's attention then. It sounded like there was a man and a woman. He peered around himself in search of the owners of the voices. Maybe Bobby had customers today? The yard was empty of people and when he turned back to Bobby the man had vanished. The hunter blinked in confusion. The voices got louder._


	8. Chapter 8

The voices pulled him from his deep slumber but that constant white noise accompanied them. One of them, Sam's, appeared to be whispering in the hope of quietening down the woman who sounded as though she had so much energy that it physically leaked into her voice.

"Come on then, Sam?" She encouraged, "Where is the person special enough to make Sam Wesson miss a day of work, eh?" She teased mercilessly. The grin could be heard in her voice.

Dean cracked one green eye open to see Sam desperately trying to block the door to stop the woman barging in. Even with his broad shoulders and Sasquatch height, he seemed to be struggling. Dean snapped his eyes shut instantly and decided to feign sleep in the hopes of discovering something new. It wasn't eavesdropping... Probably.

"No, Jess." Sam scolded sternly but she bounded passed him and into the apartment easy, "Jessica!" He cried before realising that he was shouting so hushed his own voice.

A gasp came from inside the lounge so Sam hurried to catch up with the woman. Jess was standing frozen from where she could see Dean asleep amongst the tangle of blankets. Her finely formed eyebrows were raised and jaw dropped, a scandalous look was plastered upon her features.

"Sam!" She hissed and bounced on her heels, "Who is this?!" Her excitement was overflowing.

"Umm, this is Dean." Sam ran his long fingers through his long hair. His hazel eyes scanned Jess' body language and face to ensure that she didn't react negatively.

"Sam!" She cried.

Realising that Sam was trying to quiet her, she pulled on his arm and led him through to the open kitchen so they could talk with a slight more privacy. She leant close to him and didn't release his arm from her vice grip.

Straining, Dean could just about make out the conversation. He knew that he'd have to fake wake up soon though.

"How long has this been going on?" She whispered.

Sam sounded awkward, "He's been here for almost two weeks."

"So what? You're in a relationship or just sleeping tonight?" Upon Sam's ferocious blush she realised that she was getting close to the truth, "What you have just slept together?"

Sam jumped to correct her. He also managed to worm his arm out of her grip, "No, I haven't!"

"But you want to." Upon seeing the blush remain on his cheeks, she knew that it was right and she clapped her hands excitedly, "Although, I can't imagine you having sex in your own bed... You'd worry about the mess." Thoughtful, she commented.

"Jess! Can we not talk about that!?" He was often appalled by her blatant sexuality but he wouldn't want her any different. She made his working days enjoyable.

"Fine, fine... But why haven't you made a move yet?" She questioned.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't tell her that Dean would go back in time any second so had to lie, "I can't... He's leaving soon and anyway, he's sick." He argued.

"Please! You obviously want this man so why don't you just allow yourself that, hm?" Her arms remained stuck on her hips as she leant against the countertop with the casualness of friend that know each other well.

"I've never... I don't know..."

"You're still scared about that?! I told you, your body will tell you what is good for you." She shrugged and began to open his cupboards in search of something. She pulled out a can moments later, her savage was successful. Sam had brought them for Dean but he'd allow her one, "I know you wanted a relationship or whatever but a work schedule like yours doesn't allow for mingling at bars."

"But he'll be gone." His voice was quiet as though he was fearful of getting his heart broken. His eyes glanced anywhere but his only friend, "And I'll be left alone."

"Sam," She held his chin to make sure that he had his full attention on her words, "Life's about putting yourself out there. Taking a chance. Living like this, the way you do, isn't living; its surviving. You deserve more. You deserve better." Her eyes bled emotion and her desperation for him to understand.

He bit his lip, "He's going to leave me." Swallowing, he admitted.

"You can't limit yourself amazing possibilities simply because you're scared of getting hurt, sweetie. Besides, Don't worry. If he breaks your heart then I'll kick his ass!" She chuckled while patting his shoulder.

Sam laughed; his laugh sounded like music and filled the whole apartment, "Yeah, okay."

"Now," She rubbed her hands together, "Do I get to meet him?" She began to stride over to the supposedly sleeping man when Sam lunged upon her and tackled her to the ground.

"I wasn't lying. He really is sick." He smiled down at the beautiful blonde as she rolled her eyes and tutted at him. Sam helped her up from where they'd gotten tangled on the carpet and pulled her into a hug. She felt a bit like an unofficial big sister for him.

"Fine but you can't hide Pretty-Boy away forever!" Jess called as she made her way passed the sunken lounge and towards the door on the other side of the room. She sent a wink over to him teasingly and he couldn't help but to grin back. She teased rough but he'd grown used to her ways.

Dean was offended! Pretty-Boy?! Anyone that called him that was just begging for a broken nose but she appeared to be Sam's friend so perhaps the hunter would let her off. It was the first time in the whole two weeks he'd been here that Sam had even spoken to another human being, by choice, while in the apartment.

A bucket of new information was stacked upon him. Firstly, Sam did really want him badly and secondly, Sam's friend was determined to push them together. Dean could just tell that she loved nosing into other people's business but she was good to Sam. Also, Sam probably would have made a move by now if he wasn't so scared of getting his heart broken. Even though Dean had no control of the time he returned, he felt bad that he couldn't maybe just stick around to make Sam happy.

He could hear Sam moving around but pretending to awake up now would look incredibly suspicious so he resigned himself to other nap before officially waking up. He slipped back into sleep surprising easily but maybe that was just a testament to how much this illness was taking out of him.

* * *

It'd been well over 24 hours without any incident so Sam allowed himself to leave Dean's side for a few hours. He managed to pop into the lab for pick up some technology even though he really didn't want to leave his guest alone while he was recovering. A few of his colleagues gave him an odd look as he'd been signed out for the day; Jess was the only one to welcome him with a smile. She even asked how Dean was and if he was feeling better. It was clear that she was just attempting to steer the conversation onto Sam's houseguest.

Sam was only gone for about 45 minutes so, much to his relief, Dean had barely moved when he returned let alone actually woken up! The recovering hunter was still under a pile of blankets and snoring softly when the tall man reentered with his equipment.

After leaving a glass of frengezene, water with added sugar and vitamins, beside Dean's bed, Sam retired to his own bedroom. He collapsed down on the chair in front of his desk and pulled the mess of wire and circuitboards out from where it was stashed inside his large toolbox. He bit his lip before pulling up a soldering iron and getting back to work joining wires and sealing off endings. There was more up to date tools at the lab but he really couldn't take them without someone noticing.

Over the course of the last week, he'd only been able to spend a few hours here and there on Dean's gift. The idea that, hopefully, in the next few months he could be the one letting Dean return home drove him to work harder and for much longer.

Time travel was a solid concept now. Almost everyone accepted that it could be done with just a bit of work to finally make it happen. In a way, they needed the final piece to the puzzle. The large transportation system sat in one of the larger lab rooms with thick wires trailing out from it and high powered connection to the grid of power. The whole city would feel a dip in power when it was used but if that was the only consequence then the scientists and technicians saw no issue. It stood like a silver fridge but was larger and made of thick heavy metal which always seemed to be buzzing with electricity.

The only problem with the actual machine was the control panel which would dictate where the passenger would go and whether the machine would remain on course, so far, was always faulty. It didn't allow them to go anywhere without that vital piece as it was like trying to run a computer with a major component missing.

So, Sam decided that he would be the one to create that final piece so, as a result, Dean could return back to where he came from. The hunter could then be reunited with the man called Bobby and Castiel, the angel.

Since he didn't have to go to work the next day, there was no set curfew meaning that Sam could work through the night for hours. He just hoped that his fatigue wouldn't significantly impact the quality of his work.

He finally pulled himself into bed only a couple of hours before he would usually be getting up and his eyes stung from a lack of sleep. Needless to say, he was asleep before his head barely touched the soft pillow.

* * *

"Dean?" The voice was gentle and comforting. For some reason, he wanted to pull the owner into his arms and stroke their hair while he made them continue to soothe him. The voice was like peace.

He peeped open his eyes to see Sam smiling down at him. He looked pretty proud of himself which made the hunter want to instinctively either throw holy water at him or check that his eyebrows hadn't been shaved off.

"Morning!" Sam tweeted and his smile grew.

"Sam?" Dean peered around and it was morning again. He'd slept through the whole night? He just hoped that maybe it had built his strength up back to normal. Being sick sucked.

The light streamed in from the large wall of windows and Dean blinked against the sudden onslaught of sunshine. Sam was still smiling at him but from further back now, to give Dean some of his own space.

Sam had dark circles under his eyes hazel eyes and he blinked a few too many times for him to be feeling normal. Concerned, Dean pulled himself up a little to address the other man.

"You didn't sleep well?" He inquired while yawning.

Sam caught the contagious yawn, giving Dean a flash of the back of his mouth, "No... It wasn't the best nights sleep." He admitted but didn't seem to caught up on it, "You alright to get up?"

Sam hooked his arm around the man and helped pull him up to his feet. The chill of Sam's skin made Dean jump but he didn't mention it to his host. The tall man lifted him easily since his robotic arm took all of the weight. Dean considered asking whether he could watch next time he was fixing it or making altercations but he assumed that it'd be too private so discarded the thought.

Sam helped him to the bathroom and assisted him into the shower but tried to remain a respectful distance away while the older man was stripping himself of his clothes. He may really like Dean but if anything was going to happen then he'd be sensible about it. There was no point rushing into something just to regret it afterwards especially when that damned angel dragged him away.

There was a loud feminine squeal, "Sam!"

"Dean?!" Sam called, rushing over to where Dean was shielded by a misted glass panel to hide his naked body, "What's wrong?!"

"It's so cold!" Dean cried like a big baby.

"Here," Sam muttered as he pealed off his T-shirt and leant around the panel to reach for the temperature gauge, "Cover yourself." He warned as he leant around.

Dean decided to make the most of a half naked Sam, "Oh, Sam! I thought we weren't doing any of this since I'm leaving any day now." He purposely increased the pitch of his voice to show that he was teasing the other.

"Dean!" Sam cried in horror as the other man, leaning against the tiles, began cupping his hands to collect the warming water and throwing it at his friend. Within seconds, his long shaggy hair was dripping wet and clinging to the sides of his face.

The shorter man reached out and hooked his arms around Sam's neck to tug him into the stream of water. Sam, unprepared for the sudden weight, lost his balance and tumbled into the bottom of the shower. Dean, the troublemaker, collapsed on top of the other man as Sam falling had taken him by surprise and he'd gotten caught up in the falling process.

Dean blinked up at the dark tiled ceiling and noted how the head of the shower was a tasteful square rather than the traditional circle. The stream if now warm water splattered down onto his chest and face. He basked there for a moment. He was unharmed as Sam, human crash mat, had cushioned his decent.

"Ow," Sam groaned into the tiles from where his face was pushed down by Dean's weight, "Dean!" He moaned like an exhausted parent of a toddler.

The hunter peered beneath him to where half naked Sam was curled up. His dark jeans were getting wetter as water was getting absorbed into the material. He pretended to act as though finding Sam beneath him was a surprise in the hope of having his host crack a smile.

"Oh hey, Sam. Didn't see you there!" He chuckled to himself as he moved off of his friend.

"Ergh! I'm soaking." Sam groaned as he stiffly pulled himself up and out of the shower. A deep crease created a flaw in Sam's usually smooth skin. He was frowning.

Dean could suddenly see the serious side so his cheeks flushed red in utter embarrassment. He'd basically tackled a kind man onto the hard floor of a shower only for him to get dripping wet. He swallowed nervously. Would Sam get rid of him now? Throw him on to the streets to fend for himself?

"You're alright here on your own, right?" Sam asked while grimacing slightly. He held his cold, mechanical arm against his chest as he stood in the middle of the bathroom, soaking wet. The drips were absorbed by the substance in between the tiles; somewhat akin to a sponge cement.

"Uh, yeah." Dean said awkwardly as he peered down at his naked body in embarrassment. He'd caused all of this tension and awkwardness.

"I'll be in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" Sam said firmly but with a softer edge. It was a bit like a mother trying to discipline their favorite child.

Dean nodded and went back to showering once Sam had squelched his way from the room. He could hear movement from the over room so assumed that his host was changing into some new clothes. If he could, Dean would have gone back in time and stopped himself from doing that.

Minutes later, he was done and was padding out to the living area with the fluffy white towel wrapped around his hips. Sam was hunched over the breakfast bar with his back to Dean. He was still bare chested and the muscles in his shoulders and back were firm and tense. Guilt washed over the hunter for causing that.

Sam was breathing heavily through gritted teeth as he continued as he was before Dean came in. Walking closer, Dean saw that his host was gripping the top of his arm in a vice grip. The pressure he was applying must have hurt but Sam seemed to ignore the pain flashing through his body. This robotic arm was designed for everyday use, not that kind of abuse.

"Sam?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Sam jumped and gasped when it jolted his arm. He rubbed soothing circles into the flesh that covered the machine.

"Dean, you made me jump." He mumbled casually.

Coming closer, Dean took Sam's hand in his and encouraged him to share what was wrong. The older man was determined to make everything better and fix his mistakes.

"Sam. What's wrong?" His eyes danced over the clearly injured area.

"It's just quite delicate and it may have just been jolted."

"How does it feel?" He asked partially out of concern and partly from plain curiosity.

"Like a metal sledge hammer smashed into my shoulder and collarbone." He answered completely honestly. His face was pulled in pain and sweat was beading upon his forehead.

"What can I do?" Dean asked, desperate to help.

Sam released a huff of air, "I have a feeling that one if the plates has slipped out of position..." He managed to say, "I've gotta correct it." Sam smashed his fist into his upper arm, "Piece of shit!" He shook his fist where the metal had caused pain.

"What do you need?"

Sam squeezed his eyes closed as he thought, "Go and get my toolkit from my room, careful as its real heavy, and a towel."

As soon as the words were out of Sam's mouth, Dean was dashing through to the bathroom where he snapped one of the smaller towels from the heating rail before running to Sam's desk. The man wasn't kidding, the toolkit pulled him down and strained his back muscles as he hauled it into the kitchen.

Sam was reaching up with his good arm into the cupboard. He was pulling out several of those metal tubes that held medication and dumping them on the countertop. He self medicated himself really quickly, holding each one of the tubes to his neck for a couple of seconds then the next. The muscles relaxed in his firm back and he rolled his neck as he leant against the counter.

"Okay, got my stuff?" Sam was blinking heavily as though it was a struggle to be keeping his eyes open.

"Yeah," Dean pointed his thumb to where the kit sat on the breakfast bar, "Umm, Sam? I don't this a good idea?"

"Hmm? What?" The painkillers were already slugging through his bloodstream making everything seem less focused and slower, "Nah! It'll be fine. I've done it like a thousand times before." That wasn't quite true. Sam had done many different operations on his robotic arm but this particular procedure, he'd only had to complete once; even then it didn't go to plan and too two hours longer than expected. Smiling, he didn't want to worry Dean.

Sitting himself on a stool, he rummaged through the tools until he found a scalpel in its leather case; to ensure that it remained sharp. He squeezed his eyes shut in a feeble attempt to focus them. Every time he took several drugs at once, he always forgot how out of touch it made him feel.

He pulled the thin and flexible light out from the toolbox and settled it upon the table from where it cast a perfect circle of light on Sam's right shoulder. The tall man directed Dean to a drawer in the kitchen where there was some alcohol and cotton wool. He cleaned the area with the alcohol wet cotton wool all while Dean watched on intently.

"Wait!" The hunter cried when Sam was about to pierce the scalpel through the tanned flesh of his shoulder. The future man, as drugged up as he was, couldn't help but roll his eyes dramatically, "Are you sure we shouldn't go to the hospital?"

"I've never been to the hospital in my life and I'm not starting today!" Sam said quickly, getting ready to refocus on the task in front of him.

He hadn't even been to hospital when he was in the accident that lost him his arm. Being surrounded by scientists, engineers and technicians meant that they waved off the idea of A&E so instead decided to deal with Sam themselves. That was probably the reason why he ended up with a mechanical arm rather than just an amputation.

At first, Dean's eyes constantly on him was off putting but he soon forgot that the guest was there. He pressed the sharp tool down into his flesh and hissed as he pulled it along, separating skin from skin. It made Dean's stomach flip slightly. Blood dribbled down from the opening but Sam simply brushed it away as though it was a nuisance rather than a essential life force.

Leaning closer, the hunter peered at what could be seen from where the skin had been pulled apart. Metal gleamed at him from where the lamps light was reflected back. Sleek wires and a collection of metal plates could be seen but Sam had to wipe the blood off the silver.

The tall man hissed as he moved his arm, Dean watched as the plates moved slightly and the wires twitched. All of a sudden, this just seemed so wrong; the hunter could understand why people were seriously against this type of stuff. Picking another tool from the box, Sam held it in between two of the plates and seemed to take a deep, steadying breath. Last time he did this, it went very wrong but there wasn't exactly An engineers' manual on how to fix an arm.

Pulling a metal rod from the toolbox, Sam lined it up in between the minuscule gaps between each metal panel which were kind of layered over the one below it.

He held the metal rod like tool in place with the robot hand while his other arm withdrew and took a large swing towards the end. He's not doing that, Dean's mind cried. Oh fuck, His mind supplied, He's gunna do it. Sam's hand smashed into the end of the tool, forcing it further in the gap. Dean watched as Sam held in a scream and possibly a curse word.

Unscrewing his face, Sam peered down at the tool which was halfway into his arm. He shook his head in disappointment, "No, no, no." He wiggled it backwards and forwards.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Dean took the opportunity to ask.

"Dean!" He cried as though he'd only just realised that the other man was there. Hope sparked in his hazel eyes.

"What?"

"I need your help!" It made so much sense to himself. Having another person there, something he'd never had before, meant that the pain wouldn't make his actions falter, "Here, hold this like so." He showed the man, "And you watched me do what I just did? Good. Now, do it."

"Sam, I can't hurt you!" He cried, appalled.

"Just do it!" Sam shouted, sharply.

The noise bounced around the apartment making Dean jump and, in a moment of panic, smash the tool, as hard as he could, into his friend's metal plates. Sam bit down on his lip and pain radiated throughout his whole body. There really was a downside with messing around with wires that were connected to your nervous system. His hands screwed up into fists as his nails dug half moons into his palms.

"Oh my god, Sam. I am so sorry!" He couldn't believe what he had just done. Sam, on the other hand, was ignoring his apology to instead inspect the metal stick tool wedged in between the plates.

"Dean, you did it!" Sam rejoiced. Step one was done!

"I did?" He was shocked that pain like that for Sam signalled something good.

"Yes!"

Sam grabbed a hold of the tool and began pushing it upwards so pressure began to get build up, pushing the plated downward. They didn't move but as he applied more and more pressure, he could feel the metal inside of his groan under the tension building up. Anticipation was building in the air as both men waiting with baited breath to see if it'd actually work.

Suddenly, the metal slipped with a loud click. The whole section of Sam's shoulder moved down about a centimetre so now it didn't look as though his shoulder was so tense. An almost erotic moan left Sam's lips as the pain was taken off his shoulder. Dean studied his host as he leant his head back and with parted lips, took a deep breath of relief.

He wrapped his robot hand around the tool and tugged it out of himself since the arm had the strength to remove it easier than either men present.

Sam then sat back like normal and pulled a long needle from his box and using some sort of thin metal wire (Sam explained that Serptium was perfect for stitches), he began to sew his flesh back together. His eyes felt heavy from concentrating while on some serious pain meds and he felt more sluggish than before but he knew, from experience, that it was better just to get the job finished straight away otherwise blood gets everywhere. Exhaustion made him want to just take a nap and deal with the pool of blood afterwards.

Minutes later, a neat row of stitches were holding the flesh together but small trickles of blood were still managing to leave the opening. With his right arm, Sam lifted the toolbox with an unnatural ease and returned it to his desk. While there, he put on his sleep pants and brushed his teeth. Deciding to check on Dean, he made his way out to the living room where Dean was lounging on his bed.

He slumped down the few steps until he was directly at the end of the bed. Confused, a half dressed Dean looked up from the book he'd been reading on Sam's tablet. He could tell that his friend was exhausted as his shoulder were slumped and his blinking was sluggish. Guilt, once again, made a reappearance inside of Dean.

Without warning, Sam dropped down onto the bed in the space beside Dean. His feet poked off the end but his head landed squarely on the spare pillow. The hunter shook his head and went back to reading his book that he'd started before his sickness. It was Sam's house, he could do what he wanted. Not to mention that Dean actually liked Sam beside him at this proximity.

"You alright?" Dean inquired as his gaze lingered on the smooth curve of Sam's back and the toned muscle beneath skin.

"Mmm," Sam moaned into the white pillow. The hunter took this as a conformation so let the man be.

There were several minutes of silence as Sam lay with his eyes closed and Dean tried to read but failed as his mind kept wandering to the man currently occupying the bed beside him. The thought of having a constant warm body beside him did seem quite appealing in comparison to the one night stands that he often had at home.

There was no sound except the exaggerated breathing of Sam and his occasional huff of breath. The peace was disturbed at the sound of his host sniffling into the pillow like a hedgehog or maybe one of those police drug dogs.

"Ew," The younger man mumbled seconds later, "This pillow smells gross..." There was a moment of quiet as Dean chuckled as Sam thought about something for a brief moment, "Hey, lean up."

"Why?" Dean questioned but he sat up anyway, conditioned to follow orders.

Quickly and with thieving efficacy, Sam snagged the pillow from under Dean and swapped it with his.

Sam smelt this new pillow and smiled into its glorious softness as he tried to resist the urge to drift off. He rubbed his nose into the soft material and moaned happily. Dean quirked an eyebrow as Sam's happy sounds.

"Better?" He mocked.

"Much!" Sam agreed, "It smells better. It smells like you." He hadn't meant to say that last bit out loud but it was too late now and he was too exhausted to care.

Dena could feel his cheeks flushing red; he was glad that Sam had his eyes closed so couldn't see, "Me? Is that really so great?" Dean then dumped the tablet on the floor, he couldn't concentrate anyway, and laid back onto his pillow. He sniffed the pillow and pulled a face, "Hey! You lumbered me with the pillow that reeks like vomit!"

Sam snickered tiredly into his pillow and wrapped his arms around it, absorbing Dean's smell. It made his stomach feel warm. It smelt like gun powder, leather, whiskey and subtly like sun. He smiled.

"It's your vomit, De." He felt like a child getting to share a bed for the first time. As though everything was new and better than ever before.

"That's true," The hunter agreed as he also closed his eyes and allowed waves of tiredness to was over him.

Sam was asleep moments later, the strong drugs pulling him under. Dean allowed himself to fall into unconsciousness as he was lulled to sleep but Sam's shallow breathing.


	9. Chapter 9

A knock on the door pulled Dean from his peaceful slumber. The constant buzz of electricity instantly reentered his senses to plague him for another day. Heat shrouded him but in the best way possible. The duvet was pulled up to just below his chin and he could feel arms wrapped around his torso comfortingly.

He peeped open a green eye to confirm his suspicions. Sam had his head leant against Dean's chest with his long arms wrapped around his torso. Dean's own arms were holding the sleeping man in place on his skin. His arms were also locked around the taller man's waist to keep them pressed together. Sam's breath was gently blowing against the hunter's heated skin as the man slept off his painkillers peacefully.

Crossing his fingers, Dean prayed that the visitor at the door would get the message and just leave. He kept Sam in his arms as he waited, in silence, to see what would happen. He really wanted to avoid answering the door to a stranger but he even more didn't want to have to wake Sam up.

He waited with baited breath. Another knock on the door echoed around the room but this time it was louder. Panicking as he feared that Sam would awake, Dean slipped out of the other man's arms and rushed over to the door. The sleeping man stirred but wasn't brought around to consciousness.

The hunter wrenched the door open with efficient speed to intimidate the visitor with a death stare. Do they know how close they were to waking up Sam?!

The woman behind the door jumped as it was pulled open. She blinked and seemed unprepared for this situation. Her eyes scanned Dean up and down more than once; He could practically feel her judging him. It was when her eyebrow shot up that he recalled that he'd settled into bed shirtless, just like Sam. He swallowed.

The blonde woman was probably around Sam's age with a large smile and a small mole which sat in between her eyebrow. She wore a light blouse with a tag hanging from around her neck. It read: Government Staff

Jessica Moore

Science and Technology Development Department

2890567-QWE21

He stood awkwardly in the door waiting for the stranger to make the first move. She stayed assessing him for a moment more.

Suddenly, a smile stretched across her feminine features, "Dean, right?" Her hand stuck out towards him.

The hunter instantly recalled where he knew her voice from. She was the woman that Sam had been talking with the day before. Dean could all of a sudden see her in a new light as he remembered the conversation she'd had with Sam the previous day. She was the one that had tried to convince Sam to try and make a move on Dean.

Blankly, the hunter shook her hand as she practically buzzed in front of him. He desperately tried to recall her name. Dean had heard Sam say it several times yesterday but now... He went blank.

"I'm Jessica! Jessica Moore! Don't freak out," She giggled, "Sam has told me all about you! Speaking of which, where is that handsome devil?" She laughed as she pushed past Dean and strode into the large living space.

The man wanted to stop Jessica but he felt helpless against her. He had no choice but to simply follow her into the room like a lost lamb. He rushed closer upon hearing her gasping and watching the way her hand flew to cover her mouth.

Jessica was stood frozen in the entrance to the room with her eyes focused on the messy blankets that covered a only half clothed Sam. As ideas formed in her head, her lips pulled up to form a knowing smile. Her gaze shot back and forth between Sam, sleeping, and Dean standing beside her.

She hit his bicep in excitement, Dean didn't want to admit that it was actually kind of painful. He watched as she hopped around and silently threw her arms around.

"Dean! Did you actually?!" Her voice was a smooth whisper.

"Wait? What?" He shook his head as a crease formed in between his brows. He followed her gaze between them, "No! I didn't. He was like high so I wouldn't take advantage of him like that!"

"Wait... Sam was high?"

"Yeah, he had to open up his arm thing so he took a tonne of medicine." He mentally scolded himself for not using modern language. Would she notice? He didn't really even know what modern people even spoke like. He'd only been in contact with Sam but he changed the way he spoke slightly to accommodate the hunter. Sam wouldn't admit to it but by now, Dean had seen enough of the modern movies to see how they spoke. It wasn't completely different but sometimes it threw him.

"What? Again?" She sighed and shook her head, "It happens way too often. Poor guy." There was a brief silence, "So... How long have guys been like... Together?"

Dean recoiled, "We're not!"

"Oh? So Sam wasn't lying?" She pulled a face as she thought, "So... You guys slept together but didn't have sex?"

Dean felt relief flow through him, "Yes! Exactly."

"You gotta soon though." She said in a sing song tone as she strolled past the sunken lounge to the kitchen. Dean followed her uselessly.

She plucked a purple fruit from the fridge and leant against the countertop as she began to peel back the thick skin with her thin fingers to reveal a yellow flesh beneath. Dean watched her, entranced. Once she was finished, Jessica took a large bite from the fruit and munched happily.

"So, Dean." She spoke conversationally around the food, "What do you do then?"

The hunter was shocked at her sudden interest. It seemed similar to a big sister interrogating a possible boyfriend for her baby brother. She had one of her fine blonde eyebrows risen in expectation. He thought for a second. What could he possibly say?

Clearing his throat, Dean prepared to answer, "I... Um... Engineering?" He cursed himself for sounding so unsure. He supposed that it wasn't a full lie... He could do some repair the Impala when things go wrong so he could do mechanics? Who was he kidding, it was a total lie.

"Oh yeah?" She didn't sound hugely impressed. Maybe she'd met a large number of engineers? There was a little break as Jess thought over the new information, "Hey, how did you and Sam even meet?"

Curiosity sparkled in her eyes. Dean had to admit that she was actually very beautiful. He wondered if Sam had ever found her attractive or if the younger man had always been sure of his sexuality.

The hunter bit his bottom lip slightly, "We actually bumped into each other after work one day." He decided against mentioning that he'd just time travelled there and it was just over two weeks ago. He crossed his fingers and hoped that she wouldn't want more details.

"So... You're like living here now?" Disapproval colored her tone.

"Just temporarily while some friends are sorting things out." He replied honestly.

Jessica stepped closer to him so she could stare at the details of his face, "Look, Dean. Just make sure that you're not just using him for a week or so then moving on. I have a feeling that he really likes you and I don't want you messing it up for him. He's kinda new to the whole dating thing but I honestly think he wants to... With you and then be with you like in a relationship. So just don't mess this up."

He could see how much she cared for the man asleep on the pull out bed. They obviously spent a lot of time together at work every day so had grown incredibly close especially since Sam had nobody else.

"I really like Sam and I would never purposely hurt him but I know that one day I'm going to have to move on. I don't have a choice about that." Green eyes watched the tiled floor in shame.

"... Are you dying?" Jessica asked frankly.

Dean thought for a moment, maybe that'd be easier than explaining why he will really just disappear one day. He took a breath to steady himself before agreeing.

"Um, yeah. We don't know how long I've got until I'm gone." A tiny bit of truth amongst the lie.

"Oh my gosh!" She cried, "I am so sorry!" She pulled the stranger into a hug. Her surprising strong arms held him in a vice grip and she buried her face into his shoulder, "No wonder Sam's taking time off! He's really too good."

"Uh, yeah." The hunter awkwardly manoeuvred her off his body and gave her an half smile, "He's a good guy."

"I think that maybe he should-" She began.

"Dean?" A sleep heavy voice called out.

Both persons in the kitchen area froze and listened. There was the sound of blankets being shifted but it didn't sound as though Sam was actually planning on getting up from the bed. Leading the way, Dean began to walk over towards the sunken lounge followed by the visitor. It was ridiculous how he considered Jessica to be a visitor when he himself was only here by Sam's goodwill.

The younger man was lying directly in the centre of the double bed with his arms stretched out like a crucifix. His eyes were closed and head titled back slightly as though he was basking in the sun. He looked completely at peace despite the angry redness of the healing cut on his shoulder. A dried blood clung to the skin around the stitches showing that during him sleeping off the painkillers, he'd been bleeding.

Dean, choosing to ignore Jessica's eyes on him, marched straight down to the end of the bed and wrapped his fingers around the pale duvet. With a bit of might, he hauled the blanket clean off Sam and onto the floor a short distance away. Immediately, the young man curled in on himself, protecting against the sudden chill of air.

He peeped open a hazel eye with a melodramatic frown upon his features, "Deeeeeeaann!" He moaned and poked his tongue out.

"Time to rise and shine, Sammy. You've got a visitor."

Sam's eyes suddenly shot open and his head frantically scanned the room until he spotted Jess. Relief flooded though him; at least it wasn't his boss, that would be humiliating!

"Why didn't you wake me?" Sam asked.

Jess answered before Dean could get any words out, "You looked way to adorable! Besides, Dean and I were having the most wonderful conversation, weren't we?"

Dean shook his head and mouthed "No" silently. Jess laughed and waved him off.

"Sure we were! Anyway, I just came to check in but you all seem fine so I can be on my way." She began to stride towards the door when she seemed to suddenly remember something, "Oh, and Sam? Remember that you can take as many days off as you need."

Sam nodded just to satisfy Jess and get her to leave so he could question Dean on what they'd been talking about while he dozed. She seemed happy with his response as she turned and left.

Sam's eyes were on Dean in an instant and he was clambering towards the end of the bed on all fours in an attempt to get closer to the man.

"What did you say, Dean?" He asked slightly panicked.

Shifting, Dean responded, "I may... Or may not, have said that I was dying."

Sam's jaw fell open in shock. Clearly he wasn't expecting that answer in the slightest. The young man's mouth opened and closed like a fish as no words would form in his mind.

"I'm sorry... You what?" He was appalled that Dean would come up with such a horrible lie.

"She said it first! I just agreed as I kinda didn't want to admit that I come from a whole different freakin' time period!" He grew angry as Sam criticized his choice.

"But... Death? Seriously Dean?" He seemed panicked and worried at the same time, "What if she asks for details? Than what will you say? Or what happens if you're stuck here for years then she'll be asking all sorts of questions!" A panic was glossing over Sam as his breathing became harder and his eyes darted around in an absolute buzz of energy.

"Sam!" Dean put on his commander voice, like his father used to use. His grabbed Sam's shoulders, forcing them to make eye contact,"It'll be fine. Castiel will beam me home soon and you just have to act all heart broken." The hunter pulled a weak smile onto his face. He tried to reassure him.

Sam, with his bottom lip clamped between his teeth, looked up at the man and a worried look was etched into his features, "Yeah... It'll be fine." He repeated unconvincingly.

"Sam. I promise." The hunter's green eyes met with hazel and he nodded.

-A few days later-

The game on the tablet confused Dean. He didn't understand the aim but his friend was too busy to help out. There was a small selection of games for the hunter to choose from but, unfortunately, more than one of them was a quiz and Dean knew none of the general knowledge required to pass each level.

He watched Sam in between tries to pass each new level. The man's large hands worked incredibly gently with the pale board of wires that sat on his lap. His fingers manoeuvred the tiniest screws Dean had ever seen with surprising agility. The hunter peered at the object on Sam's lap and tried to not feel jealous that it was taking up so much of the man's time.

Despite spending hours on it, the development of the tech was unbelievably slow and the older man had expected so much more from modern day devices. It still appeared to be nothing more than a flat board with a sea of different color wires which joint the other board, this one green, to the original. Even though it appeared to be nothing to Dean, Sam spent hours on a single section which he couldn't understand as after a massive chunk of time was over, there was no physical change to the piece but Sam always seemed relatively satisfied. It always served to remind him how highly trained and skilful Sam was.

Dean couldn't help but consider that maybe the future man was using it as a distraction from them and their near relationship which had developed into awkward sexual tension. To keep his mind busy was probably best.

"How long until it's done?" Dean found the words leaking from his mouth.

Sam's gaze fell onto the hunter and he seemed to consider the man for a moment. He didn't know about the time jump machine so there was no need to feel so paranoid, "Probably a few months, if everything goes right first time which it obviously won't."

"That's not long." Dean muttered as he remembered something.

~~~Memory~~~

The wrench was a perfect fit for Bobby's hand as though he'd evolved for the sole purpose of holding it. It was no wonder though as the older man used to spend so much time with his head in the engine of an old car. The silver metal of the tool glinted in the brutal strength of the sun.

Dean knocked his knuckles against the roof of the car, startling the experienced hunter. He chuckled, "How long 'til it's done?"

Bobby cracked a smile and leant over the engine to inspect it. Oil darkened his old hands and there were smudges of the substance across his right cheek and down his jeans. His familiar baseball cap sat on top of his head like always. He shifted it as the build up of sweat became uncomfortable.

"If everything goes to plan? A few weeks and she'll be a beauty." He stroked the cool metal fondly as he spoke. Being around someone with a real passion for cars always relighted it within Dean himself.

"Nothing in comparison to Baby though." He laughed.

Bobby's eyes crinkled as he smiled at his surrogate son. Pride swelled within his chest and he nodded in agreement; nothing could out do the Impala, that's for sure.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hmm?" Dean asked when he jolted back to the present, "What did you say?"

Laughter filled the air, "I said you'd drifted off again." His smile was contagious. Dean found his eyes drawn to the bright smile that lit up Sam's face.

"Just thinking of memories." As answered truthfully.

Sam's gaze jolted down to the device in his large fingers. Hopefully, this will be the final piece which would reunite Dean with the world he truly knows and loves. At least Sam could hold onto that hope for the other man.

"Who were you thinking of?" Sam asked conversationally.

"My uncle Bobby." He replied with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Thinking a minute, Sam responds after a brief silence, "He sounds like a good man. Everything that he's done for you. He kinda makes me want to have family."

Sam winced as the microchip in his brain received new information. He rubbed at his head even though he knew it'd do nothing of use. The sharp stabbing sensation died down after a few seconds leaving the room silent as Dean stared at him with a deep crease in his brow.

"You okay?" Dean asked while automatically placing a hand over Sam's.

The tall man registered the movement instantly, his eyes shooting down to where there was contact. Dean could see him swallow. It was like confirmation for the hunter that he was actually liked back and it really was Sam being scared of heartbreak that is stopping them.

The future man watched their hands for a moment before closing his eyes, taking a breath and leaning forward until their lips touched softly. It was just gentle, soft and caring. It felt like acceptance and relief at the same time.

Dean's stomach flipped at the contact. It was so unexpected, and clearly unplanned, but yet it seemed like the most perfect and flawless action ever formed. As Sam pulled back, the corners of his lips slowly pulled up. Following his lead, Dean's cheeks tightened, creating a large grin.

His eyes flicked from Sam's lips and up to his sparkling hazel eyes, "What made you change your mind?"

Sam seemed to steady himself with a breath before speaking slowly, "One of my favourite quotes says this, 'Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So, love the people who treat you right and forget those who don't. And believe that everything happens for a reason..." He licked his lips nervously, "I guess that you, Dean, have come here for a reason."

"I don't believe in destiny." The hunter muttered with a half smirk as he leant in towards Sam.

"You don't have to. Just believe in me."

They kissed again, this time much more passionate as tongues twisted together and hands found their places on the other's body. They continued 'making out', as Dean referred to it as and Sam had looked confused, for a while longer until it felt childish for them to be so obsessed with each other so quickly.

"Thank you..." Sam murmured as they separated.

Placing a delicate kiss onto Sam's nose, Dean smiled, "You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you're willing to try... Despite my impending death!" He burst into laughter.

The older man's chuckling appeared to be contagious as within seconds, Sam was also in fits of giggles, "I can't believe you told Jess that you were dying!" Grabbing a pillow, he threw it at the other's head, unintentionally, starting a pillow fight with tickling thrown in for good measure.

Needless to say, Dean won. The hunter was straddling Sam from where the tall man was lying on his back begging for mercy. Hazel eyes stuck to the pillow that Dean was waving threateningly above his head as one hand tickled further.

"No, no! Please!" He cried while laughing so hard that his stomach muscles were protesting, "Dean! Dean! No! No more!"

Throwing the pillow behind him, trusting it wouldn't break anything valuable, Dean leant down to capture Sam's lips again. He hoped that Sam realised that the whole kissing thing would be a regular occurrence since Dean felt like Sam was some kind of drug. Although, kissing him right now was hard as Sam was still trying to retain his bursts of laughter.

"You're addictive, you know that right?" Dean muttered against swollen lips.

The tall man sighed, "Yeah... I get told that a lot."

Dean's eyebrows shot up and a disbelieving look became etched into his features. That somehow didn't seem very Sam-like.

Sam could only keep a straight face for so long before bursting into giggles again, "I'm joking!"

A smile tried to crack upon Dean's face but the hunter fought to keep in hidden. They gazed into each other's eyes before falling into fits of laughter. By the end, their stomach muscles were sore for hours.

* * *

The next day, Sam was about to head home from work when he had an idea. Excitement gleamed in his eye as he hopped into the Projeneration and changed his destination. In his opinion, this was a really good idea and he was almost certain that Dean would agree.

The vehicle started up silently and took off in the opposite direction to home. A smug grin was plastered upon his lips.

* * *

"Dean?" Sam called, the smile carrying in his tone.

He held the small box in one massive hand with ease. His eyes glanced over it and it made his grin increase. He'd never actually purchased one of these before but they were popular with the older generation.

The hunter stepped out of Sam's bedroom with one of the taller man's jumpers covering his torso. He looked instantly curious the moment he noticed the box. Sam, on the other hand, had just noticed that Dean was wearing his jumper so must have been though his drawers.

"What were you doing in my drawers?" His mind flipped to the notepad stored in the bottom drawer with his pyjamas. The notebook was important as it was a journal in the front and at the back, there was detailed plans of his time travelling device he'd been working on. He'd be screwed if Dean read either part as he'd died of embarrassment but also it was supposed to be a surprise to send him home. It was hard to get a hold of notebooks these days but Sam loved the feel of writing his own words down everyday so he shelled out thousands of credits each time just for that feeling of pen running over paper.

Dean looked shocked at Sam's sudden outburst and interrogation, "It was cold... I didn't think you'd mind. I only looked for jumpers." He wouldn't admit that he also craved Sam's distinct scent.

"Yeah. Sorry, that's fine." He calmed himself as he toed off his shoes like he did religiously everyday.

Without even getting changed first, Sam led the way over to the plush couch as they'd pushed Dean's bed away this morning. Confused about Sam's behaviour and the box, Dean followed.

Once they were sat beside each other, the tall man handed over the box. Raising an eyebrow, Dean studied the box before shaking the contents around which made Sam's lips twist into a smile. The hunter was distracted from Sam's embarrassing outburst which he found more than acceptable.

"What is it?" The magical glint of curiosity made Dean's eyes sparkle. It made Sam's stomach tighten.

"Just open and see!" Sam encouraged.

Pulling the box apart, Dean peered into it. A cellphone like device sat at the bottom. Plucking it out, he saw how thin, only a few millimetres, and sleek the petit rectangle really was. The device was early wholly touchscreen aside the small button on the edge.

"What is this?" Dean asked with a head lean. It certainly looked like a cellphone but he knew that he couldn't trust the new technologies.

"It's basically a bracelet," He lifted his wrist, "But not on your wrist. They tend to give them to older people who have never had a band applied but I thought it'd be good for you since it's like... Temporary." A solemn feeling seemed to cast over them like a shadow.

"Why have you got it for me?" He quickly realised how rude that could sound, "I am grateful but... What would I use it for."

"You could be able to DC, DM and DV me while I'm at work and you-" Sam began.

"Wait, what?"

"DC, means direct call. DM, means direct message and DV means direct video."

"Got ya." The only thing he could think of that was DC was Batman, Superman and The Joker!

"And also, I can put credits and units on their so you can buy stuff and go around on you're own." He grinned. He knew that a little independence would probably mean the world to his hunter, trapped inside all day.

"Credits and units are still money, right?"

"Yeah!" He chuckled. He'd spent a good few hours the week before trying to get Dean to learn the difference between units and credits but the hunter still didn't really understand.

"Wait..." Something suddenly clicked with Dean, "When I go out 'on my own'?!"

"Yeah, I thought it was about time that you gained some more independence. You don't need me to hold your hand, you're a big boy." He laughed.

Dean smirked and raised his eyebrow, "Am I?"

"Dean!" Sam cried in embarrassment.

"Sorry, sorry, I always forget that you're an innocent." He chuckled.

The taller man flushed at his gentle teasing. He liked Dean and really liked the new element to their relationship but wasn't quite used to the flirting and innuendoes that Dean seemed to love.

Trying to change the subject, Sam gestured to the small device in his partner's hand, "Just turn it on!"

Dean pressed down the button and, instantly, the pad pinged to life with a home-screen. He clicked the different buttons hopelessly, unsure on what to actually do. He despised Sam for sitting there with a smug smile plastered across his handsome face.

Eventually, taking pity on Dean, Sam took it from him and began programming his caller ID and some other important contacts like emergency services. He also included the contact for his workplace but hoped that Dean would never need to use it. Money would be transferred now that the device had been activated. Sam had decided to put a large sum on there even though Dean hadn't quite grasped the concept of how much each credit really was. Dean might not understand credits but it was always better to transfer too much rather than too little.

Handing the set up device over with a apologetic grin, Sam said, "You can choose a board now... Like a picture to go on the screen."

"Oh, so I get to finally do something now?" He asked sarcastically with a jokey tone.

"Sorry," Sam murmured, "Just look at the screen and say capture or pick one you want from the options."

Dean held the small piece of technology up and readied himself to take the picture when Sam moved away so he wasn't in the image. Scowling, Dean turned to him.

"Why did you move?!" He demanded.

Looking confused, which Dean found heart touching, Sam's eyes shot around as he searched for an explanation, "I didn't think you'd want me in it..." Clearly, people didn't take photos together anymore.

"You?!" He pulled Sam's shoulder until the man practically fell onto him, "Of course I want you."

Unconvinced, Sam remained for the picture but merely looked confused in any of the ones they took. In the end, the hunter settled for the one where Sam looked the most bamboozled since it wasn't something you saw everyday on his face. He chuckled when the picture settled to the screen as the background or 'board' as Sam had called it.

"That's a bad one..." Sam offered after Dean had been laughing for some time.

Rolling his eyes, he responded, "We'll maybe next time you should smile! Anyway, I'm not changing it now." Dean leant over and placed a peck on Sam's lips.

"Sure," The tall man grumbled, "How about some food?"

Sam remained slightly grumpy for the next few hours until he pulled out his little device he'd been working on and continued tinkering with it. Dean still didn't understand what it was and he didn't know what it did. All he knew was that it had to be important as Sam almost always seemed to be desperate to get some work done on it.

* * *

-A week later-

Christmas was in two months. They may not have seasons anymore as global warming really sucked but most people still celebrated Christmas. It wasn't so much a religious holiday anymore instead, it was a celebration of joy, generosity and love. Not that anyone was very joyful and the government was NEVER generous and Sam, usually, didn't have anyone to love. As a result, Sam was amongst those who never really fully embraced the Christmas period.

Sam was using this as a goal; if Dean was still here then he'd aim to finish the device by Christmas. It could be an awesome present to finally be able to send him home!

The man's fingers worked faster in the hope that it could come true.

Two months till Christmas.

* * *

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean cried as he ripped the silky blue blanket from his boyfriend's body to reveal the toned muscles below. The hunter particularly enjoyed it when Sam only wore pyjama pants to bed. That was most days though.

"Errrghhhhhh," The noise leaked from Sam's throat, "Go away."

Despite officially being together for a over a week, Dean hadn't made the natural transition to sharing a bed with the taller man. He assumed that Sam was probably going slow to try and stop his heart getting broken and sleeping beside each other just seemed to confirm their relationship further.

"Sam, get up! It's your day off and you promised we could go outside!" He whined like a child.

"It's not my day off." Sam resorted, knowing that it was all lies.

"Yes it is. It's ten o'clock. You'd be like four hours late for work if it wasn't so get up." The hunter knew Sam's routines so was beginning to understand when Sam should be doing something or going somewhere.

The hunter strode over to the drawers and pulled out clothes which he then threw at Sam, head buried in his pillow. He didn't really know what he was chucking around the room but Sam had good taste so most of his clothes would be fine.

The tease of the outside world was omnipresent for the shorter man. Large windows in the living area allowed for him to see a large area outside but stopped him touching it. He cursed the housing block opposite since it detracted from the view. He wanted to be able to see for miles around but he knew that the smog over the city would limit the distance he could see anyway.

He left the room, allowing his boyfriend to finally get up and dressed. The hunter opened the kitchen cupboards and pulled out cans which he started eating for breakfast. Minutes later, Sam emerged.

"What are you eating?" He sniffed the air and scowled in disgust.

"It says Deretille..." He replied, mispronouncing every part of the word.

The taller man's nose wrinkled, "For breakfast?!"

Dean just nodded then proceeded to watch Sam pull out his staple breakfast of the grey mush. He'd choose the meaty Deretille any day over that slop; he didn't care whether it was full of vitamins or not!

The shorter man finished the can in minutes so he was chopping at the bit again to get going. Sam merely rolled his eyes, already accustomed to his occasionally irrational exuberance, while spooning the grey stuff into his mouth. Dean took a moment to absorb his controlled movements and appreciate his fine form before he was bouncing to get outside.

After consuming the very last mouthful, Sam said decisively, "I'll take you to an open space."

"Like a playground?" He wanted to scowl; he wasn't a dog.

Sam frowned in confusion but lead the way out the room anyway. Clearly, they no longer called them playgrounds or maybe they no longer existed.

* * *

They reached an open space quickly and Dean was beginning to see the benefit of these little pods rather than massive cars on the roads. It all seemed to be much more efficient especially since the speed was controlled by the road system meaning that everyone drove at a fast constant speed. No crashes meant that there was no need to slow down.

Dean breathed in deeply, the pollution hit him in the back of the throat making him splutter and cough. He had to hack up onto the grass to remove the contaminated bile.

"Yeah... Don't do that unless you're used to it." Sam advised too late.

"I got that now."

Sam lay on the dry, crisp grass as Dean investigated the sort of field. A few trees were growing on the edge of the open expanse but they looked unhealthy and almost like they were halfway through dying. The hunter didn't doubt that there was probably some sort of mechanism being used to keep them alive.

He approached them and placed a hand against the bark to find it hard, like plastic, and smooth. Anger filled him when he realised that it was not real but just there to give the aura of a healthy environment. Even the face trees looked like death.

The hunter hurried back to Sam and peered down at his boyfriend. He looked so peaceful and at rest with his eyes closed and hands folded behind his head, acting like an uncomfortable pillow.

"You look happy." He noted.

Sam peeped open a hazel eye, "I don't hurt here." Dean frowned, causing the taller man to explain, "While inside designated clean areas, no signals can reach me so the chip in my head is basically dead."

Dean looked disturbed with his deep frown which caused Sam to chuckle, "You look concerned. I'm guessing that you found the synthetics over there." He gestured towards the fake trees.

Dean nodded, "I thought they were real at first."

"So did I. I had always wanted to see a tree so I was majorly disappointed." A crease formed in between his brows. Trees were rare and a bit deal, "You guys need to care about trees more." Sam was clearly referring to Dean's generation, the ones that had destroyed the planet for future people.

Growing up, Sam always tried to get hold of a real tree but growing up poor meant that there was no way on earth that he could get one. Now that he was wealthier, nobody had any trees for him to buy. Technically, they didn't need trees as they had filters that converted carbon dioxide into fresh oxygen but Sam still longed to feel it's bark and see the leaves.

The area of dried out grass was pitiful but it seemed as though they had nothing more to offer around the city.

They decided to walk a bit; it was mostly Dean's suggestion but Sam permitted it. He warned the hunter of the strong fumes the closer they got to the centre though. They walked passed the ProJeneration and continued along the rarely used pathway beside the road tracks.

The further they walked the more twitchy and uncomfortable Sam grew. Dean studied his boyfriend careful to try and deduce the cause but be gained nothing. The taller's hazel eyes darted about, scanning the streets as they walked along a particularly run down looking road.

The buildings around them were smaller, dirtier and significantly less maintained. There was a smaller number of cars on the tracks and they seemed to be some of the only people out. At first, Dean thought that Sam's discomfort was due to the lowering of class but he soon realised otherwise.

"What's wrong?" Dean questioned while looking down at his feet.

Sam looked shocked that the hunter had noticed his shift in emotion, "I grew up near here."

"Seriously?!"

Sam nodded, "I grew up in housing one. I was unbelievably lucky to have the opportunity to get the datum munus of law but when they offered me this place at the lab... It was practically unheard of. It was a miracle. My family practically threw me from our little home as it was an unmissable offer." His eyes wondered the streets with fondness.

"Do you know where they are? Your family, I mean."

"No, they might be where I grew up, they might have relocated... Or they may have died." He voice grew quiet and trembled a bit.

"Well, let's find them!" Dean cried and began marching down the road. He coughed from the thickness of the polluted air.

"No, Dean!" Sam caught his arm to stop him, "We can't. I'm not allowed to find them. It was part of my contract and the government would know. I've explained this to you before." He swallowed against the lump in his throat, "I was an exception. Not everyone is luck enough to get that opportunity. I can't give them false hope."

Dean chewed on his bottom lip as a young woman raced past them with her eyes on the ground like they were gods unworthy of her gaze. Her limp, blonde hair was thick with black from dirt and general grime. Rags hung from her skeletal body and her skin was plastered in dark marks. She hurried despite her lack of energy so she didn't hinder Sam and Dean's paths. The hunter swallowed the sick feeling.

"Can't we help?" Dean begged with his large green eyes.

Sam shook his head and raise his wrist, "They need credits more than anything but we are forced to use these bands for every transaction. The poor don't have the bands that work like that so we have no way to give it to them. None of our units are physical like yours used to be." He fiddled with the band, "I give food, often, and blankets, during the winter, but there isn't enough of us willing to help to really make a difference. One person can't rescue everyone." He looked guilty.

Dean watched the woman go, her posture and gait spoke of deep pain but she fought to keep moving to her destination.

"We will bring food for them soon?" He was desperate to help. He'd never seen fellow human beings live in such poverty. This was worse than any type of slums he'd ever seen.

Sam thought for a moment, "You can help, if you want. I don't know the word you'd use for it... Where you go and help a charity?"

"Volunteer?" A suggestion.

"Yes, you can. If you wish." Sam seemed to be looking off into the distance as he thought.

Dean nodded and resolved to think about it some more later. It was definitely a way to pass the time while his boyfriend would be busy at work. Also, even though he'd never admit this to Sam, he kind of wanted to find out more about Sam's past. He hoped to maybe meet some of Sam's old friends or family through the volunteer work.

A plan began to brood in Dean's mind.


	11. Chapter 11

Days later-

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked again as the ProJeneration slowed to a halt. The computer systems had detected that they'd reached their destination, a charity centre in housing zone 1. The vehicle pinged and you could hear the automatic locks hiss open.

"Yeah!" Dean waved a dismissive hand, "About time I did something for others."

Sam frowned, "But... You're a hunter, you do things for others everyday."

There was a brief pause as Dean swallowed and looked up into Sam's hazel eyes, "I used to be a hunter." He pushed the door open and stepped out. Sam was quick to follow him.

"It might still happen any day now." He reminded the elder man. They were clearly referring to Dean going back to 2012 but neither of them would actually say 'going back'.

The ex-hunter sighed and his sad eyes brooded, almost seeming to go a darker shade, "I don't know if I hold up much hope, Sammy." He said with a small, weak smile upon his lips.

Sam watched him and it broke his heart. The smile was bordering on a grimace and the taller man had learnt to see passed that. The lines disrupted the smooth skin of his forehead.

Shoulders slumped, Dean shook his head, "No, not anymore." He turned and began walking towards the run down building beside them.

Sam hadn't realised that Dean's hope had been melting away day by day without him even noticing. The hunter was close to rock bottom so Sam knew that he had to do something soon. He needed a few more months of work before the command panel would be anywhere near complete. Less than two months until he hoped to present Dean with the gift of time travel. He bit his lip. It was going to be very close indeed.

* * *

Unlike what the hunter had expected, the packed centre was almost silent aside from the scraping of sporks on thin plastic bowls. There was no talking or loud behaviour; instead people were sat or leaning against the walls with their heads hung low. There were a few tables in the middle of the room but that seemed to be reserved for the oldest amongst the gathering.

Gray was the overwhelming color, it seemed to invade every wall and surface. Even those at the centre seemed devoid of color as though it'd been literally drained from them. The smell wasn't wholly unpleasant but there was the common stench of human bodies. Dean couldn't complain, not when he'd smelt so much worse.

Two small serving tables sat at each end of the room, one providing some form of broth and the other handing out clothes. The hunter's eyes scanned the area and was overwhelmed by the feeling of hopelessness and desperation. It seemed to radiate off everything in the vicinity.

Immediately he felt a tugging on his sleeve. Glancing down, a small boy, thin and fragile-looking was peering up at him. He had dark hair and darker eyes. Bones pressed out against his skin.

"Forgive us," His voice was thick with an accent. Dean had no idea what the accent was so correctly assumed that it had developed more recently in history, "But do you have any spare credits? To buy us food? Just a little, Sir, please."

He'd left his tablet/phone thing at Sam's apartment, not that he knew how to purchase things anyway. He shook his head at the small boy, hating himself for having to do so.

"Sorry, kid." He muttered, "I'm new here. I don't even have credits." It wasn't completely a lie.

"Thank you anyway." The scrawny boy disappeared into the crowd almost instantly. Dean hoped that he found his parents.

"Excuse me?" Someone called making Dean turn.

A man with short curls was waving him over to the food serving table. Dean obeyed.

On closer inspection, Dean easily decided that he'd rather avoid the mush that they were serving to those less fortunate. He didn't doubt that it was rich in nutrients though. The man looked across at him expectantly. His brown eyes were similar to Sam's but much less shiny. The long scar from his temple to his jaw line was also a very defining feature. His ratty clothes were not much better than those he served and Dean couldn't help but wonder who he was.

The man got tired of waiting, "Are you, "He peered down at the sheet, "Deaun Winchasster?" The man asked uncertainly. His mispronunciation just proved how rare a name like Dean's was these days.

"It's just Dean." He supplied helpfully.

The man didn't seem impressed at being corrected, even if Dean hadn't been an utter douche about it, "I'm Saune and I'll be directing you, okay?"

Dean nodded quickly, feeling as though wasting this guys time would be a major mistake.

"So, follow me." Saune led them back through a pealing gray door and down a small corridor. Cans lined both sides of the walkway, stacked high on shelves. They were obviously making the most of the given space. Saune seemed confident in his stride while Dean was constantly conscious of knocking the cans onto the solid floor, "Sam said that you're new in town." Saune seemed to mention with a glance over the shoulder.

"Yeah, just thought I'd try to help out while I'm here." Dean answered.

"Sam's a good guy," Saune seemed to pull the conversation back, "If a bit of a perfectionist..."

"I think he's better now than he was," Dean tried to defend his boyfriend against the sudden criticism. He assumed that Sam was better now anyway. The guy just seemed bitter for some reason.

Saune's smile seemed to turn almost predatory, "Does he still insist on keeping the medication in his cupboards lined up in alphabetical order?"

Dean blinked as he thought, "Um, yeah." He hadn't actively thought about it before but Sam really did keep the silver tubes in perfect line.

Saune scoffed, "And he has all his tins arranged in expiration date order?"

Dean frowned but found himself nodding anyway. It was a habit that Sam seemed unable, and unwilling, to break.

"He hasn't changed a bit." The man laughed.

Curiosity flooded the hunter, he used to know Sam? Was this possible?

"You knew him?" He asked as the made their way into a hot and sticky cooking room. Massive vats of the slop was bubbling over fire cookers. A young woman was hunched in the corner, stirring the smallest vat.

Checking to make sure the tanned woman was occupied, Saune responded, "Before he got lucky, yes." It took Dean a moment to realise he was talking about the job in the science and technology profession. He hoped for more but the man just began talking to the woman.

"Right, Dean. You'll be in here for the next few hours." Saune instructed making Dean silently curse; how could he talk with the locals about Sam if he was stuck back here, "She'll show you what to do." He muttered, gesturing over to the woman.

She scowled at his back as Saune strode from the room. Her distaste for the man was clear.

"Hi." Dean greeted awkwardly causing her to unfold herself and stand to greet him.

Only a short while later and Dean had be taught exactly how much of each can should be added to each vat. Apparently a few of the tins held nothing but pure vitamins. The woman was attentive but also treated him like an adult so knew to leave him to work some things out alone. They were never hard tasks though. She seemed hardened by the world but still kind enough to have seen the good in it. She seemed wise beyond her years.

She seemed to want to breach a topic of conversation with him but they'd worked almost silently so far. Her eyes continued to dart between the work in her hands and Dean's face every few moments until the hunter finally questioned it.

"Yeah?" He asked.

She blinked at him, almost assessing the man, "Saune throws people he dislikes back here. He knows it's hard work."

Dean had to agree, running back and forward with tins and stirring the huge quantities of gruel was a tiring and thankless job. He was already beginning to regret signing up for this.

"What did you do to piss him off?" He questioned. Upon her frown, he amended, "What did you do to make him mad?"

She scoffed, "Nothin' much. He considers me a rival for his position of director 'cause I'm 'feisty'." She used air quotes.

Dean smirked, "but wait... What did I do? I only just met the guy."

"I weren't listening in earlier but I heard y'all talking about Sam." She watched his face to ensure that she hadn't encroached at all.

"You know Sam too?" Sam obviously knew a lot of people despite his antisocial tendencies.

She shook her head, making her long, limp hair sway, "No, but I've heard a lot 'bout Saune and Sam. It's something that everyone was talkin' about a few years back."

"Why?"

"I'm only tellin ya this 'cause I dislike Saune, okay? Rumour has it, that Saune was madly in love with Sam and apparently they were on the verge of a relationship when Sam chose his career over Saune and left."

"So Sam didn't like him back?" He thought out loud.

"I seriously doubt it. Saune's a ballsack on a good day and if Sam loved him then why would he be so willing to leave." She explained her thoughts as she peered into a bubbling silver vat.

"Where does that bring me into this?"

She smiled almost sympathetically at him as though she pitied him, "I may or may not have been listenin' in on the call Saune had with this Sam guy last night. I don't know if it's true but it sounded as though you were with Sam."

"Yeah, we are together." Dean confirmed her suspicions. She gestured for him to work faster. The conversation had taken his mind away from opening cans and separating them up.

"There ya go. Saune loves Sam but Sam loves you."

There was a brief silence as he processed the new information as well as how impressive this woman's eavesdropping skill were. She blinked up at him patiently.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He remarked.

She sighed, "Yeah, I know." He admired her confidence and huffed out a laugh with her.

* * *

The centre was almost empty when Sam pulled up outside in his car. Eager to escape, Dean bounded over and jumped into the passenger side. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck and squeezed tightly, surprising Sam.

"Not a good day, I take it?" Concern shone in the hazel eyes.

"No, it was fine but I think Saune hates me."

Sam huffed a breath threw his nose before tapping their destination on the dashboard. His tie was loose around his neck but apart from that he was still perfect from work. Dean examined him carefully.

"I always used to hear rumours that Saune and I were dating. It made me so mad." He muttered as the ProJeneration joined a new set of tracks and led them towards housing 8 with its fancy buildings and wealthy owners, "I thought I could ask him a favor, to let you help out, without him acting like an idiot about it... Perhaps I misjudgment his maturity."

"It was good apart from that. I met a nice girl in the kitchen and we talked a lot. She was very wise for her age and very insightful." He muttered, thinking back the the conversation about Sam and Saune. It had given Dean some information about Sam's past that he couldn't have accessed otherwise. He felt like an undercover detective or something. He still had information that he had to uncover from the staff and visitors at the centre. He could bear Saune's abuse of power a little longer to get that.

"Are you going back tomorrow?" Sam's hazel eyes watched Dean carefully.

Thoughtful, he watched the world zoom passed his window for a brief moment, "I think I will."

Sam smiled. He was proud of Dean for going out there and helping others. Not everyone out there would sacrifice their time to give to those less fortunate. His unselfish act warmed Sam's heart and maybe even made him fall for Dean that little bit more.

* * *

"When will it be done?" The hunter questioned, peering at the growing complex of wires and circuitboards in Sam's gentle hands.

It hand grown to twice the size from when he'd first seen it due to Sam's constant work on it. Dean still didn't understand what it was and the one who understood refused to dumb it down enough for Dean to comprehend.

"Hopefully, before Christmas." He revealed his deadline to his partner.

Sam was lying on the couch with his head on one armrest and his feet sticking over the other one. Dean was lying completely on top of Sam with his arms looped around the other man's ribs. Sam, on the other hand, had his arms held above Dean so he could work on the device with it resting on the hunter's broad shoulders. They were both happy in this position. The shorter man would occasionally peer around at the way Sam's hands manuvoured the tiny mechanisms but usually just kept his head rested on his boyfriend's chest where he could hear the strong thump of his heart.

If it wasn't for asking the occasional question, Dean would have probably already fallen asleep. Although, eventually he did fall into a light doze for an hour or so.

* * *

Dean had almost given up hope. Despite being told not to talk to the visitors to the centre and "just do what you're assigned!", Dean had spoken to almost anyone that would let him approach them. It was beginning to feel like a wild goose chase. All that really left his lips, aside from his discussions with Liu from the kitchen, was "Do you know a Sam Wesson who left housing one over three years ago?" He tried to be specific.

After a few weeks, Liu, who'd become a sort of friend, they had bonded over their hate of Saune,, caught on to what he was doing and even began to also ask around whenever Dean was sent to the kitchens away from the people. He appreciated her help but he was even more grateful that she didn't ask him any unnecessary questions. She was that kind of girl.

"Do you know a Sam Wesson who left housing one over three years ago?" He whispered to an elderly lady as he handed across her warm bowl of slop. Despite being a tiny person, she held a presence that was rare.

Her eyebrows lowered almost automatically upon hearing a familiar name which was distant to her. Recognition was clear in her heavily wrinkled face, "I knew a family that had a little Sam once." Her voice was scratchy from years of abuse. Poverty had taken its toll on her.

"Where?!" He asked desperately. A sudden glimmer of hope.

"Tomorrow," She replied. "Tomorrow I will bring you the woman you are searching for." With that she waddled off towards the tables in the middle of the room.

Dean was confused but definitely hopeful. Had he actually found someone that could lead him to someone from Sam's past? He really hoped so.

That night he found it almost impossible to drift off despite his boyfriend snuggled up asleep beside him. Excitement brewed in his stomach making him jittery and hyperactive. He couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean couldn't stop the excitement or even nervousness that thrummed through his body when he caught a glimpse of the old, withered woman from the day before. She wasn't alone this time, a skinny woman, younger than the first, followed behind her with a sceptical look on her weary face.

"Mjyna, what are we doing her?" She sounded impatient but scared at the same time. It wasn't everyday that you get summoned to the charity centre.

"Come, dear." Mjyna merely encouraged, looking back. "There he is." Her withered face looked proud. She bustled through the crowds until she was directly in front of Dean. The follower looked confused.

"You know Sam Wesson?" He asked desperately. He'd been volunteering here for weeks and aside from Saune, this woman had been the only person to actually know Sam. That's aside from the rumours of him being promoted by the government which everyone seemed to know.

Mjyna picked up a bowl of slop and left so the two people were alone, "I used to know him." She muttered quietly. Taking her gently by the arm, Dean led her out the back to where they could talk in relative privacy but Dean didn't really believe that anything is secret anymore with the government being how they are now. He hoped that Saune wouldn't find them either; he'd get mad to find a non-volunteer back here.

"You knew Sam?"

"Yes, why? Has something happened?" Desperation glimmered in her eyes as though, despite all these years she still cared for him.

"No, he's fine. Who are you to him?"

She straightened up slightly to looking Dean dead in the eye. She had hazel eyes almost identical to Sam's, he knew the answer before she'd even said it, "I'm his mother."

Dean's jaw dropped, he could have never imagined that he'd get to meet the woman who'd raised Sam especially since Sam was forbidden by the government to make contact. He was meeting this woman that Sam had briefly spoken of once or twice but recalled that she had been the most beautiful and kind hearted person he'd ever met.

"Why do you want to know?" She questioned suspiciously, "Who are you?"

"I'm Dean Winchester, Ma'am, and I'm your son's boyfriend."

A smile split onto her face before she pulled Dean into her arms in a hug. He didn't know whether she was crying but he wouldn't be surprised if she was. She squeezed as tightly as her weak arms would allow before letting go.

"My baby did okay!" Her eyes were beginning to get wet, "After everything that happened with his sister, we didn't know how well he'd do on his own but we had to risk it." The old woman wiped her tears on the back of her hand, "He couldn't stay here."

"Sam has a sister?!" Why hasn't Sam ever mentioned her? Did they not get along? It seems like an odd fact to just forget to mention.

The woman's joy was washed from her face so quickly that Dean felt guilty. What had happened? She licked her chapped lips, "She died... About a week before Sam was offered the position."

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. What happened?" He asked gently.

She shifted and watched the floor, "A wave of Dyliverate swept through housing 1 and 2. Thousands of people died including Meg."

Dean remembered the name to ensure that he could ask Sam about her later. Why had he never mentioned her? Maybe because it was too traumatic for him? Or maybe he just didn't want Dean to discover anything about his past. The rest of the conversation went by most uneventfully as Dean's mind was now preoccupied. Before separating, Sam's mother gave her housing code to Dean in case he needed to find her again. Despite admitting how much she missed Sam on a daily basis, she reminded Dean that he wasn't allowed to make contact with anyone he used to know. She didn't want to risk him losing everything he'd built up.

Dean left with a smile and a tight hug from the woman.

* * *

By the time they had gotten back to the apartment, Dean was practically bursting to ask the questions about Meg. He had formed a list in his head as they'd travelled home together. He'd waited this long but he really didn't want to be insensitive. He decided to wait a little longer so Sam would have relaxed from work and gotten into his normal clothes. That was the plan anyway.

Sam was rummaging through his cupboards as he was about to start cooking when he heard Dean come into the kitchen behind him. The tall man turned to smile but became concerned when he saw Dean's straight face. Standing up, Sam looking into his eyes in search of an explanation.

"Dean? What's wrong?" He rolled up the sleeves of his suit jacket.

Dean looked down. He'd spent the last few hours choosing how to phrase this but everything seemed wrong now that the time had actually come, "How come you didn't tell me about Meg?"

Becoming suddenly pale, Sam stiffened seemingly becoming taller, "How do you know about that?!" His voice was cold and unpersonal. As his boyfriend took a step closer, Sam took a deliberate step back.

"I asked around at the centre. Sam, I met your mom!" He enthused. A smile grew into his lips.

Sam looked no more happy than before. He looked more offended or even disgusted than anything that Dean anticipated. His eyebrows furrowed and his fists balled up tightly.

"How dare you?!" Seething, he hissed. Without warning, the future man began to stride for the door. He snagged his coat on the way out, "You know I am unable to make contact with my family but yet you go and start meeting up with them without my knowledge?! Why would you do this to me after everything we've done together. The one thing I can't do... I just... I can't believe it." The door slammed as Sam fled from the apartment leaving Dean standing alone half way to the door.

The hunter couldn't leave. He had nowhere to go! He couldn't even chase after Sam because if it went wrong then he had no way to let himself back into the home.

Guilty, Dean dropped down onto the steps in the sunken lounge. Running a hand over his face, Dean took a shaky breath. What had he done now?

* * *

The apartment felt cold without Sam even though the hunter knew that the air temperature was constantly monitored and seasons were controlled to mean that winter and summer were the same temperature. In a way, he assumed that it was the lack of Sam's warming presence that made him cold. Or perhaps the guilt was freezing him inside out.

Dean thought that he'd kill that white noise that hummed obnoxiously in the background. It was never changing and omnipresent.

He sat in the middle of Sam's large bed with his legs pulled up so his chin could rest on his knees. He forgot dinner and simply considered sleep instead since it had grown dark already. Feeling as though he had murdered Sam's puppy, Dean decided to clamber under the blankets. But first, he pulled on a pair of Sam's sleeping pants and slid into his partner's side of the bed.

The silky sheets didn't feel quite so luxurious. They merely felt cold and unused. He didn't like it. He really didn't like this being alone lark.

He could easily see why Sam was furious. It was clear that the man missed his family but was banned from making contact with them. Loneliness had seemed to plague Sam's life for years until Dean suddenly turned up. The hunter, seemingly rubbing his ability to contact them in Sam's face, looked bad. Pulling the pillow to his face, he inhaled Sam's musky scent as he fell into a fitful sleep, full of nightmares of Sam getting hurt out in the dark.

* * *

Despite the images Dean conjured up in his mind, Sam was in fact not wondering the streets in the darkness. He was instead lounged out on Jessica's couch after consuming a concerning amount of alcohol to drown his sorrows. It wasn't his usual coping strategy but he allowed himself this since brooding simply wasn't working.

"You've got to go back!" Jess enthused from where she was curled up on the beanbag-like-armchair across from the man. The light purple alcohol sparkled in the tall, thin glass but she had been so enthralled with Sam's story that she'd barely remembered to sip from it. Sometimes, Sam grew concerned by her obsession with his love life but tonight, he was more than happy to share.

Sam was practically drunk so the alcohol was mostly dictating what came from his mouth, "I can't go back now!" His words were heavy and slurred.

"Why not?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"He went behind my back to do something that he knows I can't do!" Sorrow made Sam's face crease up, "I'd do anything to meet my family but last time I was within a mile, the government let me know they were monitoring me... Not a friendly memo either! They know what I do! They know where I go! What am I supposed to do?!"

She chewed her lip, "Maybe he didn't mean to upset you though. He just didn't think."

"Exactly! He didn't stop and think! He's been planning this for weeks. He's been actively going behind my back to seek something out but didn't once in that time think 'how would Sam feel about this?' " He ranted, waving his arms about. Dean's lack of consideration had cut Sam deep. People that cared for each other were supposed to think about their feelings or that's what Sam had been taught.

Anyone who knew Jessica and Sam well enough, would know that in times of trouble, they'd go to no one else but each other. Jessica had plenty of other friends here since she had grown up in the wealthier part of town so was still able to keep her childhood buddies. It also helped that she didn't dedicate every minute of her life to work like Sam did. This allowed her a social life unlike Sam.

When it came down to it, Sam would be nowhere else right now apart from drunk on his colleague's couch.

"What about Dean? He's ill so wouldn't you rather be with him!" She argued. Her eyebrows rose to accommodate the creases in her forehead.

Sam scoffed. Taking a swig of alcohol, he continued, "Dean isn't ill!" Jess covertly pushed Sam's glass further away from him.

"He said he was dying." She stated in confused, "Said that he'd not be here soon."

"That much is true!" He pointed at the woman, "But he isn't dying." There was a silence as she waited for him to inevitably continue, "He is a time traveler, Jess." He yawned as he muttered the secret, "He has no control over when he is taken back so it might happen at anytime." Leaning forward, he nearly fell from the couch, "He lied to you!" He exaggerated every word like a child.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked with a dead serious face. Since she worked in the laboratory too, she knew that they were on the cusp of time jumping but almost couldn't believe it.

"No, he's not from now." He slurred while reaching for his drink. He frowned upon noting that his arm was several inches to short to reach. When had it moved away from him? Or had his arm shrunk?

"So he seriously time jumped?"

"He's not from the future." The way Sam strayed from the topic was beginning to grate of the young woman. She'd only seen Sam drunk once before but now he was sad and drunk instead which made him almost unbearable. She raised a sceptical eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, "No, no, no... He's from the past."

She frowned, "The past?"

"Mm, like 2008 or something... Perhaps, 2010? 2012? 2012!"

"How could he even time travel then? Since you know how rubbish their technology was!" The blonde argued.

"Castiel, the angel."

"Angel don't do that kind of thing! Never." Angels had become common news about 100 years ago. They seemed to keep appearing and doing good or occasionally bad things then disappearing again. These days, it was practically unheard of for someone to communicate with an angel. Many people blamed that on humanity's lack of religion anymore.

"Well, apparently Dean was tying to save the world so had to time travel to the past but, something went wrong and ended up here." He spoke as he fiddled with the hem of his work tie. He'd not had a chance to get changed when he arrived home.

"Oh my god, your telling the truth!" She cried when she saw his band light up in a light pink which signified sincerity.

"Yep!" He nodded happily. The band changed color in happiness.

She stood, took both their glasses out to be cleaned before returning to her drunk friend. Sam's large body was sprawled out across the couch in an uncomfortable looking position. Rolling her eyes, Jessica threw a blanket over the man to ensure he stayed warm.

The whole time travel thing was a shock but it did make sense. Everything was falling into place thanks to this drunken revelation. Despite it being big news in Angels, this couldn't really help them get their own time machine going.

She was going to kill Dean though for lying to her and making her seem like a complete and utter fool. Sam would obviously regret this in the morning but it was good for Jess to know. It meant that she could help Sam when the time finally came and Dean had to leave.

She decided that she would book Sam a day off work tomorrow for two reasons, 1) He will have the worst hangover ever and 2) He had to go, kiss and make up with Dean or whatever those weirdos do.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean woke up several times during the night. Each time he reached out for Sam, like usual, only to find the bed empty. Each time this happened, guilt twisted like a knife within him, tighter and tighter.

The cold space next to him felt so wrong especially since he'd grown so used to sharing a bed over the last few weeks. He curled in on himself to try and create heat that would usually have been provided by Sam's heavy body wrapped around him. The tall man was like an octopus in his sleep, always clinging to the hunter. Dean couldn't ever bring himself to complain about it though.

At some point during the night, Dean swore he heard the front door open. If he had been a cat then his eats would have perked up. But when he ran out, the open space was dark and the small panel beside the door still had a tiny red light flashing to signal that it was still locked. He knew from experience that it would be orange if someone had just come in.

Dean returned to the large bed feeling crestfallen. Burying is face into Sam's pillow, he breathed in the man's smell. Is it possible for someone to smell so fresh but of technology at the same time? Previous to meeting Sam, he would have said that you couldn't smell technology but Sam had proved him wrong. He briefly wondered if that is how Sam's laboratory smelt like.

Curling up on Sam's side, he had never felt so alone in his whole life.

* * *

Sam woke up with a throbbing headache which was only made worse by the stream of morning news which was being downloaded onto his microchip. He blinked against the brightness of morning before pulling himself to Jessica's bathroom where she kept her medicine. Pulling out a painkiller, he self medicated before he made his way back into the living room, where he noticed a message on his band.

Clicking it, he found that it was from Jess a few hours back. He played it.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" Her voice was crisp and clear as though she was in the room. Sam smiled lightly, "NOW GET YOUR ASS OUTTA THAT DOOR AND GO BACK TO YOUR TIME TRAVELIN' BOYFRIEND!"

Sam cringed as he recalled the secret that he had revealed while more than a little drunk. What would this mean for them? Would she tell people?! He panicked as he grabbed his suit jacket and raced out of her apartment.

As he ran, he DC, direct called, her, "Jess!" He gasped breathlessly. He hadn't planned on what to say next.

"Hey, Sammy! You're up." She chuckled.

He ignored her greeting, "You won't tell anyone, right?" He pleaded desperately.

"Of course not!" She cried. The sound of machinery working was in the background. She'd clearly been in work for a good few hours, "I don't see why it has to be such a secret anyway."

Sam jumped down into his ProJeneration that just pulled up and tapped in his destination, "Because he time travelled! Everyone here is obsessed with time jumping so you think that maybe they'll try and figure out how he did it! They'll do all sorts of tests to try and harness the energy!"

He couldn't see her but he knew that she was shaking her head, "Seriously, you watch way too many movies."

"Please."

"Fine, fine." She cried, defeated. "I won't tell anyone!"

"Thank you so much! I don't know how to thank you!" He smiled.

"Just get back to your lover-boy, okay?" She instructed before hanging up.

As she did, the vehicle began to slow down on the tracks outside Sam's large housing block. He breathed deep but didn't move from where he was positioned. The vehicle beeped, making the man jump, showing that they'd arrived at their destination. Sam didn't want to move even though he knew he was taking up the tracks outside the building.

Sam wasn't ready to face Dean; He was still furious with the man. He'd actively chosen to go behind his boyfriend's back to find out more about Sam's past! Even when Sam couldn't do so himself. He rubbed his eyes to calm himself. Sam knew that thinking over what was making him mad wouldn't help to calm down. He needed to think rationally about this.

Dean could disappear any second. Dean could have already disappeared!

Sam leapt out of the ProJeneration and shot towards the main doors. He didn't have time for messing around, not while his boyfriend might back been taken back in time!

It took him less than a minute to reach his floor but he still twitched with impatience. The door automatically unlocked, sensing his wristband. The smoothness of the opening door felt too slow for the man on a mission.

Marching into the open space, his eyes shot around desperately. There was no sign of Dean. There was no evidence of any activity from the previous night which was strange considering how messy Dean could get. Sam swallowed tightly.

His eyes caught on a panel on the wall. The glass declared that it was 5:30 am. Hope blossomed in Sam's chest, Dean could still be sleeping! He could be in Sam's bed, asleep!

The hunter was curled around Sam's pillow. He had it cradled in his arms while his head was leant forward to rest against the softness. His chest rose and fell slowly like waves on a calm sea. His eyes eyes closed peacefully but his forehead was creasing as restlessness disrupted his sleep. His mouth moved as gentle sounds, not quite forming words, escaped his lips. It was almost like the hunter couldn't find peace even when unconscious.

Sam took a moment to watch his partner. He knew that he should probably put an end to Dean's apparent suffering but he wanted to take him in. Despite going behind Sam's back for the last few weeks, there seemed no evil rooted in Dean Winchester.

Pulling his tie, jacket and shoes off, Sam sat on the edge of the bed. Dean's body was curled towards him allowing Sam to extremely gently stroke the side of his handsome face. Sighing, Sam watched as Dean leant slightly into the warm touch.

Guilt poisoned Sam making him feel ill and like a terrible person. Now he had a clear mind, he couldn't believe he'd left Dean alone all night in an empty flat. He'd never had done that! What if there had been an accident?! Dean would have been stuck! He hadn't even learnt how to use the tablet Sam gave him so he couldn't call for help! His mind raced.

Sam didn't know how to apologize and he realised that surprisingly quickly. Socially, he was usually fine but he kept himself to himself meaning that he'd never had to truly apologize to anyone that he really cared about. He didn't know what to do.

Peeling his clothes off, he folded them over his desk chair before slipping into some pyjama pants. He hesitated before slowly lifting the blanket from the empty side of the bed and slipped in. He ensured he was stealthy to prevent Dean awaking up.

The bed was cold making a shiver run down Sam's spine. It felt strange to be on Dean's side of the bed; it meant that he had to turn the opposite way than usual to ensure he could touch Dean. Allowing his arm to rest around Dean's torso, Sam rested his head beside Dean so the top of his skull was in contact with the hunter.

Sam wasn't surprised when sleep pulled him under. He'd not slept peacefully last night and alcohol and pain medication were still in his blood. It seemed all to easy to just sleep.

* * *

Dean felt warm and cosy so it took him a moment to realise that he should have been alone in bed. The welcome weight of an arm across his side made his lips twitch.

Blinking open his eyes, he saw Sam peering directly back at him. After Sam had come to bed, Dean's body had turned to face him. Even his subconscious was obsessed with this man. Green eyes and hazel eyes remained still. They both wanted to speak but neither could find the words.

Dean eventually found his voice first, "Sammy?"

"Dean." Leaning his head forward, their foreheads touched like in cliche chick flick films. Dean found it surprisingly comforting.

"You're home."

"Wouldn't wanna be anywhere else." Pecking a kiss to Dean's nose, Sam found that he was overflowing with affection. The hunter would never admit it but secretly he was basking in the attention.

"Where did you go?"

"Jessica's." Dean's concerned frown made Sam clarify, "I'm 100% gay."

"Okay," The Winchester breathed lightly, "You smell like alcohol."

The corners of his hazel eyes creased as he smiled, "I'm not surprised considering how much I consumed." He admitted guilty but with a sparkle of mischief in his eye.

"You had me worried. I thought that you were going to kick me out so I'd have to live on the streets."

"That's illegal."

"How the f-" Dean paused, "You know what? I'm not surprised considering your government." There was a few beats of silence as they thought about the conversation, "What time is it?"

"Around 10am last time I looked."

"You've been awake for ages? When did you come in?" He inquired, happy to see Sam but not wanting to assume that everything was suddenly perfect again. He knew that Sam would be hurt by everything that had happened.

"I couldn't sleep much after I came in at 5:30... I'm sorry." Sam's eyes were heavy with guilt, "I messed up yesterday."

Dean shifted into more of a sitting position, "Why are you apologising?! I'm the one that screwed up. You reacted fine, I would have started throwing stuff." He sighed.

"I was mad. I was more than mad, I was absolutely furious!" There was a moment of silence as Sam took a moment to clear his head, "But, I acted irrationally. Anything could have happened while I was gone... You could h-have gone back."

Realising why Sam was upset, Dean leant down to capture his lips. Once they broke apart he muttered, "It didn't even cross my mind. I was too busy worrying about you... Are you hungover now?"

Sam shook his head easily, "Not really. Thank goodness for modern medicine."

Dean smirked. He'd always hated hangovers so maybe it was now an excuse to get wasted every night.

* * *

There was just a month until Christmas, Sam and Dean were tucked up in bed as it had grown late. Dean was propped up against the headboard with his cellphone like device clutched in his fingers; he was flicking through pictures he'd taken with Sam and smiling at the memories. He'd smile fondly across at his boyfriend every few minutes but Sam was too absorbed in his device to notice.

In the last few days, Sam seemed more stressed than ever before. Usually, the man would work on this device freehand without any instruction or design. Now, on the other hand, Sam had a notebook full of hand drawn blueprints sat on his bedside table; he check them every now and again after running his hands through his hair.

Even though he had no idea what it was, Dean could see that it had begun to take shape. Sam's constant persistence on it meant that the wires were now concealed and there was a glass touchscreen on the front. Dean had no idea what any of it did but it was still awesome to see how cable his boyfriend truly was. It was a true skill.

It was only an hour or so later, Dean was watching Sam's eyes droop and his concentration waver when he declared that it was time for them to sleep. Being exhausted, Sam didn't have the energy to protest. His work was beginning to become sloppy now anyway.

Placing the device and notebook back into his desk, Sam slipped under the thick covers and turned the lights off from his wrist band. Dean would never understand how lazy the future generations had become. After that thought, he realised that he sounded like an old person cursing the youth.

Once it was pitch back, Sam shuffled closer to Dean and spooned him in their usual way. It had become habit over the last few weeks. The hunter didn't know if he would ever acclimatise to being alone in bed again once, or if, he returned home.

They both lay in silence for so long that Dean had assumed that Sam had fallen asleep. Then tall man spoke.

"Meg was two years younger then me." He whispered as though nobody was listening. Dean could feel Sam's words against the back of his neck.

The silence after the sentence was almost sacred. Dean couldn't bring himself to say anything in fear of disrupting Sam's flow. He assumed that Sam had been thinking about this since he walked out last week.

"She was incredible. Just so strong willed and clever." Sam breathed, "She never failed to make anyone laugh."

"Sam, you don't have to." He whispered. He didn't want Sam to feel pressured into speaking about his traumatising past.

"It was a particularly hard time for my family without even mentioning the Dyliverate, a horrid disease, that was at its worst that year," Dean already knew this from Sam's mom but allowed the man to tell his story, "So many people die. Nobody was safe." The hunter thought he heard Sam's voice crack but he dismissed it, "Out of everybody, it shouldn't have been her. She was so positive, nobody thought it'd be her." The words 'It should have been me instead' went unspoken but hung in the air.

Silence again, Dean took a chance and spoke up this time, "What happened?"

"She got it on the 12th of October, technically. She didn't start showing symptoms until a week later and by then it was too late. By then, it had effected her lungs, liver, kidneys and was spreading into her brain." Sam muttered, his face pressed against Dean's neck, "It was the same as every other person... That was wrong, she was so special. How could she die the same as everyone else?!"

A sob wracked his body and instantly, Dean was turning to wrap his arms around his boyfriend's shaking form and holding him even closer. The hunter hushed him and rubbed soothing circles in his back. He whispered reassurances that everything would be okay.

Looking up into Dean's eyes, Sam choked, "I missed her burial, Dean. I missed it." His whole body moved due to the force behind his sobs.

Dean knew that Sam had left very soon after his sister's death but he didn't realise that Sam was forced to miss his last goodbye to Meg. He couldn't even imagine how heartbreaking that would be for a person. The only close family he'd really had was his father but he'd very really been there for Dean. That left Bobby and Cas, they were the only real family Dean had. He couldn't imagine them dying let alone him having to miss their funeral.

Dean had never seen Sam in such a state. He had no idea of what to do or what to say. All he could do was hold on tight and help Sam ride though it.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning was awkward as they silently ate their breakfast but Dean knew that Sam was too in his own head right now to focus on any real conversation. The hunter knew that talking about Meg was something deep inside of Sam so, in some ways, he felt guilty for the man seeming so down today. He'd been the one to churn up all these emotions and memories.

Slinking over to him, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's waist so he was close behind him. Resting his forehead against Sam's back, Dean began speaking.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine... Just tired."

Dean couldn't figure out whether that was a lie.

* * *

With Christmas fast approaching, Sam and Dean took the weekend to go shopping and buy some things for the festive period. The mall was pretty busy today but that was to be expected.

After ensuring that the hunter knew how to buy things with his credits, Sam let him lose in the mall alone. Dean watched to make sure that his partner took off in the opposite direction before he started searching for something important. Since the big day was getting close, he'd been thinking about a present for the last few days and had already decided on the perfect gift.

He had quickly decided on a notebook for Sam. The tall man had been enthusing about physical notebooks for weeks but they were notoriously hard to get a hold of. Nobody really used them anymore and writing had gone completely out of fashion. So, it was natural for Sam to be into something so obscure.

It took several hours, and many conversations with confused store owners, before he found a bizarre little place which specialised in strange gifts and antique items.

The store smelt strongly of wood which surprised Dean considering how there were just the purchasing machines placed in the middle of the room... And that trees were kind of extinct. He flicked through the on screen options until he found a sleek looking notebook with a fancy cover on it. It was a deep green color with swirls pressed into the faux leather material. More than happy, Dean transferred the credits over straight away.

Barely a minute later, the owner of the store carried Dean's purchase over to him in one of those instantly biodegradable bags. The hunter thanked the owner before making his way back to where he was going to meet Sam. He checked his phone like device to see how much of a dent was in his account. He winced, the book had been expensive but he knew that it'd be worth it. It looked as though there was still quite a sum left... He hoped anyway.

* * *

Sam's neck was aching. The pleasant aroma of strong coffee filled the air but it couldn't distract from the pain in the back of his neck. He knew he'd brought the pain on himself; Sam's neck was bent at a near 90 degree angle as he focused on his lap. He'd not moved from this position for over two hours.

His fingers worked quickly but he kept dropping his screwdriver and MagnoPen when their ends hit against the table. It was unbelievably difficult to work under the tabletop but he had to at least try to be discreet with his illegal work.

Bags sat on the floor beside him where he'd done a quick sweep of the mall and grabbed several gifts and Christmas decorations.

The tall man jumped when someone fell into the seat opposite him. Dean was leaning back in the chair with his legs spread out under the table. A single bag hung from his fingers. Sam tries not to chuckle at his partner's melodrama but the bag did tickle his curiosity.

"What's in it?" Sam asked in the hopes of an answer from the hunter.

Dean scoffed, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Other people milling around them were oblivious to their exchange, too absorbed in their own worlds. Sam's gaze shot around quickly but didn't linger.

Sam spoke, "We can head home, if you're ready." Dean nodded in agreement, "Just let me pack this away then." Sam added.

The hunter watched careful as his partner carefully lowered the device into one of his bags. He was actually getting surprisingly close to finishing the blasted thing. It had only taken months. If would have been so much easier if the technology already existed. Dean's eyebrow rose challengingly.

"You spend more time with that thing then you do with me!" He commented.

Unsure on whether his boyfriend was teasing, Sam put on a straight face and answered honestly, "It will be worth it."

Dean didn't look convinced but he stood to leave without challenging it further. Worried that he'd upset Dean, Sam jumped forward to grasp his hand. He didn't know whether he was holding on too tight or not.

"Please Dean. You have to understand how important this is... It will change our life... Your life." Sam revealed before turning, picking up his bags and heading out to where he could summon the ProJeneration.

Dean didn't know how to respond; clearly, this was important to Sam and eventually, everything would come together. It'd all be worth it.

* * *

"I DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND!" Sam bellowed at the inanimate item. He crunched the instructions in his bear-like paws. Frustration radiated from every pore.

"You just don't like feeling stupid." The hunter chuckled from where he was mixing some sort of Christmasy food mixture. Sam had assured him that it was seasonal food. "That is how everyone else feels all the time."

"Ha ha, Dean. Very funny." Sam stated sarcastically as he threw components across the room.

The box of the artificial Christmas tree had proclaimed an easy assembly but after twenty minutes of fighting with the parts, Sam was no closer to its construction. Dean wouldn't tell the man but he was finding it particularly endearing to see Sam, frankly, struggle with something. It seems that assemble yourself Christmas trees could just beat everybody.

A few minutes later there was another cry, "I am a freakin' Engineer of Science and Technology! How is this so difficult?!" Dean listened as Sam mumbled about his prowess with circuitboards and other technological stuffs.

Eventually, Dean abandoned the sweet smelling food mix to instead assist his struggling significant other. It felt good to be able to come to the able man's aid. He couldn't recall many situations where that'd happened before.

"Here, let me have a go. Why don't you finish the food?" He asked gently, trying not to damage Sam's ego too much.

"Fine!" He muttered before slinking off while mumbling about stupid instruction manuals.

After unwrinkling out the plasticky paper, Dean scanned the instructions easily. He really couldn't see why Sam had such a problem with them!

Taking each step as it came, the hunter clicked the parts into place and slid the little bolts in position. It ended up bigger than expected but he shouldn't have expected any less from Sam.

He stood the fake tree up to inspect it. It was synthetic but looked, honest to God, real! He supposed that some traditions had carried on throughout the years even though other things had died out. He was glad that the Christmas tree was still around. It reminded him of all his childhood Christmases at Bobby's. They were the only happy Christmases he could remember from his childhood. The seasonal period these days were usually a little fuzzy due to an over consumption of strong liquor.

* * *

~/\~

"Uncle Bobby!" Dean cried as he leapt onto the hunter. The shrill cry ripped the man from his sleep. "Wake up, Uncle Bobby!"

Blinking his eyes open, Bobby saw the seven year old jumping upon his bed as though it was a trampoline. The excitement dripped off the boy; just like it was for millions of other children at this time. For once, Bobby could pretend that Dean was a normal child with a normal life. Although, the absence of John didn't really help that. What father abandoned their child on Christmas anyway? The hunts could wait.

"I'm up, I'm up!" He chuckled. The boy's happiness was contagious. "What d'ya want anyway, Son?" He feigned obliviousness.

"It's Christmas! Come on!" The seven year old tugged on Bobby's hand to encourage him out of bed. "We have to look under the tree!"

The hunter allowed himself to be dragged from the bedroom and led down the stairs to the study, where they had set up the Christmas tree.

It wasn't much of a Christmas tree but Dean's childlike over exuberance had left the plant hidden underneath tinsel and old baubles anyway. Bobby had bought a worn tree from a man in the town the day before the little Winchester was visiting. It's pine needles were already browning and dropping off a week before the actual day but Bobby couldn't afford much better. It was only a little taller than the boy himself but that made it perfect when Dean decorated it as he could reach the very top. The boy, being a little hunter at heart, insisted on placing a few supernatural symbols amongst the Christmas themed decorations.

It didn't look great but the main point was that it was theirs.

"Uncle Bobby!" Dean squeezed his uncles hand before running over to their tree. The boy's pure delight at the handful of presents, in their poorly wrapped glory, made it all worth it for the hunter. He wished he could have bought more but Dean didn't seem to mind.

Dean was on his hands and knees rummaging around the presents. Bobby frowned, what was he looking for? The small boy's searching became more frantic the longer it continued.

"What is it, boy?" He asked in concern. Was he disappointed with what was there?

"There's... There's nothing here for you." Real hurt and confusion was layered in his squeaky voice. He looked up at his uncle, wanting an answer.

Bobby chuckled slightly but Dean's concern had touched him deep. John didn't know just how much he was loosing the boy. That man would ruin this pure spirit, "I'm obviously on the naughty list! Maybe I'll be better this year."

A crease formed in the boy's flawless skin between his brows, "But you're always good, Uncle Bobby."

"Clearly not as good as you. Now come on! I wanna see what Father Christmas got ya!" Bobby tried to distract the child.

Dean nibbled at his bottom lip for a moment before deciding on something and waving the man over. Curious to what the boy wanted, Bobby went over and knelt beside him. He watched as Dean pulled out one of the presents, ignoring the mix match wrapping paper, and placed it into his uncles hands.

"You can share with me." Dean said with certainty before shifting around to pull all the gifts in between them.

The old hunter glanced down at the meagre offerings on the floor and a lump developed in his throat. Despite the boy only having a few gifts, he was still willing to share them with Bobby. He believed that Bobby was good and deserved a reward. The hunter had to remind himself not to cry.

"No, son. These you especially for you because you have been a real good boy." He told him.

"At least help me unwrap them then." The boy commanded with nothing but goodness in his soul. He was intransigent.

Bobby acquiesced Dean's decision so held the present out for the boy to begin unwrapping.

* * *

He wondered if perhaps he would spend Christmas at Bobby's next year. He missed the old man, he missed being around him. Maybe he'd be back by next Christmas so would be able to spend it with his uncle. Not that he wanted to leave Sam. He wished Cas would bring the future man home with him but he doubted that it was possible. Probably some paradox or something.

As the hunter unraveled a length of shiny rope, somewhat akin to tinsel, he considered the angel and his whereabouts. Was he searching for him? Had he spent the last 5 months raking through time itself for the hunter? Restlessly looking?

Sam had tried to explain time to him. Every attempt was pretty much unsuccessful though as physics didn't sit well with Dean. He'd said that time was hard to navigate as it wasn't straight, like a time line, it was joint at several different places, kind of like a messy spiders web. It was apparently difficult to find the time period you're searching for, let alone actual times and dates. That's the problems humans face with time anyway. Sam didn't know if it was different for angels.

He pulled the shiny string around the tree in a spiral shape even though he could see Sam rolling his eyes at Dean's untraditional method. The hunter ignored him aside for barking at him to hurry and cook the cookie/cake things; he didn't understand what they'd become.

There were super thin metal disks which hung from the tree by magnets so no string was needed. The metal disks came with a pen. It made the metal disappear when you held the tip to the shiny surface. This allowed you to design your own decorations and personalise your tree. Dean was thrilled by the idea. He set about drawing demon traps and other signs since they were the only things that he could actually draw. Sam chuckled but left him to it.

It was almost an hour later when Dean finally declared that he was done. Glancing around the room and kitchen, he noticed that Sam was nowhere to be seen. He stood from where he'd been knelt on the plush carpet beside the tree and stalked towards the bedroom.

He found Sam with his back turned away from Dean with his shoulder hunched and head bowed. It took a moment for Dean to discover whether he was praying or not. Even though that did seem unlikely. He could hear Sam's gentle breathing as he approached the man. He knew that Sam had been crying some point in the last hour. At first, Dean assumed that maybe his chip had been causing him pain again but upon closer inspection, it appeared to be something else.

Sam's eyes seemed intent on staring at his hands but Dean knew that he'd acknowledged the hunter's presence. The younger man's fingers moved making the small object in his hold shift.

Dean settled himself beside Sam before leaning in a tiny bit to view the object. Noticing his hesitant attempts, Sam lifted the item.

He held the delicate chain in his large fingers. At the bottom of the silver was a petit oval locket with intricate patterns engraved into the metal. It had a small hinge on the side where you could open the small device.

Sam sniffed before popping open the fiddly locket with his oversized finger tips. Inside there was a picture of a young woman with brown long hair and a mischievous smile. The picture looked old and worn as though it had been gazed at for many hours before. Dean already knew who it was, he didn't need to ask.

"She was beautiful." The hunter spoke gently.

Sam took a long breath, "She really was." He stroked the precious locket between his thumb and forefinger in an unconscious action. Dean watched. "It was hers, the locket... Mother gave it to me before I..." He cleared his throat. "I told her to keep it but after I left, I found it in the pocket of my bag. I know she hid it there for me."

"She knew how much you cared, Sam." Dean placed a hand on his partner's forearm to comfort him. Sam nodded in acceptance of the words. "Come on." Dean encouraged, taking the man's hand and guiding him though to the living area.

He tugged Sam over to the tree where he gently extracted the locket from his hand. Being careful with the precious object, Dean looped the chain over one of the fake branches so the locket dangled amongst the pine needles. The light from the large window caught on the metal making it shine and stand out from the dark green.

Turning to his boyfriend, Dean wiped a stray tear from the man's happy face. He'd be here for Sam, no matter what. He no longer had to hide this.


	15. Chapter 15

The smell was absolutely delicious. The scent of cinnamon filled the apartment as Sam pulled the tree shaped cookies from the bake drawer. As soon as the smell reached him from where he'd been reclining on the couch, Dean leapt to his feet and raced into the kitchen. Sam looked smug as Dean was practically salivating over the food. The future man was secretly proud of his achievement, he'd never really understood cooking properly.

"You want one?" Sam asked. He reached for the metal tray they were sat on.

"Sam!" Dean cried, catching Sam's hand inches away from the just-out-of-the-Bake-Drawer tray.

"What?!" He asked in alarm.

"You're not seriously going to touch that!" The hunter exclaimed pointing at the metal.

Baffled, Sam pulled a face, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"It's gunna be boiling hot!"

Squinting at Dean, the tall man frowned and leant his head like a puppy, "Why would it be hot?"

"Because it just got cooked?!"

There was a pause as Sam's brained sped at 100mph to figure out why they were struggling to understand each other,"... I've never explained a Bake Drawer to you before, have I?" A slight smirk was pulling at his lips.

"No, why?"

Without another word, Sam took the few steps over to the drawer and pulled it open. The tubes that cooked the food lined the drawer. By all explanations of physics, the inside of the drawer should be scolding hot. Sam merely placed his hand directly in the centre of the drawer, touching the tubes and everything. Dean automatically winced as his brain couldn't comprehend that Sam wasn't burning right now.

"How?... What?" The hunter stuttered.

"It doesn't get hot... At all. It's all magnets and HyperElectricity." Sam explained with a smile. Sam really did love being nerdy.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, Dean hesitantly pulled a cookie from the cold tray. He still expected a burning sensation. Shoving it into his mouth he chewed enthusiastically before the taste truly settled on his tongue making the flavour turn revolting. He spat it out into the sink.

Sam watched him with a curious expression as he nibbled at his own cookie. They just tasted like normal to him. Perhaps it was a more acquired taste, more suited to those in the future.

* * *

"Sam?!" Dean called from where he'd been scrabbling around in Sam's jumper drawers.

Obediently, Sam turned up from where he'd been sat on the sofa relaxing. With two days until Christmas, he'd finished work for the holidays and was ready to just spend some time with Dean. Jessica had tried to get him to stay off all week but Sam still had deadlines to meet at work so had decided to go in a few days just to get some stuff done.

Without waiting for Sam to announce his arrival, Dean asked over his shoulder, "Christmas jumpers? Yes or no?"

If Dean was facing the right way, he would have seen Sam's face screw up almost comically in part confusion and part disgust," You mean... You actually have jumpers especially reserved for Christmas?"

"Yes." Dean answered. Obviously Sam wouldn't have a Christmas jumper that he could wear. The hunter stood and began to make his way into the living area before he stopped, turned to Sam and said, "They're great. You should invest in one."

Sam couldn't see how it'd be an investment but he didn't question his partner.

* * *

Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve but Sam couldn't sleep. Dean was being a dead weight on his arm, stopping the circulation but that wasn't why the man couldn't sleep. Usually, it was Dean's close presence that lulled him into unconsciousness but tonight, nothing seemed to be working.

Thoughts racing through Sam's head was what kept the sleep away. He almost always had problems with silencing his own mind but tonight was particularly bad.

In two days Dean would be out of Sam's life forever and he didn't quite know how to deal with that thought. The selfish side of him tried to convince Sam to keep Dean and hold onto him. It would be easy enough to head out tomorrow and pick up a real present instead of what he was going to give Dean. Would the man really want time travel anyway? Sam knew the answer, Yes, Dean really would.

The good side of Sam's nature knew that it was cruel for Sam to keep Dean hostage here. This was a place where he knew nobody, didn't understand anything and was only occasionally able to leave the apartment at all. Dean had enthused several times about how he missed Bobby and Castiel and missing his Baby was a whole different matter of Objectum Sexuality that Sam refused to think about.

Sending Dean back was the right thing to do despite Sam's selfishness protesting against it.

He glanced down at the man who'd become his world and couldn't imagine what he'd do without him.

* * *

Sam watched Dean during breakfast as the man seemed to mull over an idea or thought. Not wanting to push him, Sam allowed for him to develop the idea without interruption. It wasn't long until the prophesied question bubbled to the man's lips.

"Sam, do you wrap presents?" He questioned with real curiosity in his green eyes. He didn't pick up another forkful of food until after Sam responded.

"Are we supposed to?" With that simple question, Dean had his answer. In Sam's time, you clearly didn't wrap presents before Christmas but Sam, wanting this to be good for Dean, was asking about what Dean would usually do at Christmas. Sam was accommodating like that.

Dean nodded to confirm before pushing more food into his mouth.

Sam thought for a moment before spotting an excellent opportunity. He tried not to make the lightbulb moment show on his face but he allowed himself a smile, "I'll go and pick some up from the store quickly later." His plan was ingenious... If he did say so himself.

Sam knew that he probably wouldn't be able to get his hands on any proper Christmas themed paper as who even bought that anymore but he knew a store that sold thin art paper. Maybe he'd even pick up a few boxes too.

* * *

The backpack was a comfortable weight on his back which, in some strange way, was kind of reassuring. At least he knew that it was in there and he wouldn't have to worry about forgetting it. It had taken a while to convince Dean not to come along but eventually the hunter said that he'd stay home to watch a Christmas movie, much to Sam's relief.

He opened the front door and turned to holler into the apartment, "I'm going now! I'm not sure how long I'll be considering lots of people will be in stores today!"

"Okay, babe!" Dean had taken to calling Sam 'babe'. The tall man didn't really understand it but Dean seemed comfortable with it so he didn't complain, "Just be careful!"

Sam chuckled, "I'm always careful!"

He stopped at the store first to ensure he didn't forget Dean's wrapping paper as that would look stupidly suspicious. Why would you go out to get paper then return with nothing?

The store was practically empty as he'd anticipated as nobody shopped this close to Christmas so he was in and out in under ten minutes. He carried the boxes and paper back to the ProJeneration where he dumped it into the passenger seat before slipping into the driver's side. He tapped in the new destination with a nervousness tingling in his belly.

* * *

The journey to his lab seemed to take forever even though it was only a matter of minutes. The vehicle was taken down into the parking area where it stopped in its usual spot. Sam took a breath before working up the courage to actually leave the ProJeneration and make his way over to the lift. He really shouldn't be doing this.

The ride up was smooth without interruption as everyone else had gone home for the holidays. The door dinged loudly once he'd reached his floor and he hissed at it. Even if he was alone, he wasn't keen on making a racket.

Swiftly, he strode down a corridor which led towards his department and his shoes squeaked against the polished floor annoyingly loud. He'd grown used to the sterile white walls but he always noticed their emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls or rugs on the floors. The only thing to disrupt the pure white was the black text beside each door which declared which Scientist or Technology Engineer the room belonged to.

Sam bypassed his door without so much as a glance. He didn't want to waste time and get caught or ruin Dean's surprise.

He slipped into the room at the very end of the corridor. The room hummed with the sound of electricity. Sam had been told that some children, who hadn't become accustomed to the noise, could hear the humming everywhere and all the time. He didn't quite believe that.

The room belonged to Cheame Maser, a specialist in time, but the contents of the room was as a result of many people's work including Sam and Jess. It was an absolute mess but it was organised chaos. Everything had a place even if that place happened to be under a desk or in a broken box by the door.

The room was dark as there was no windows in this room. Top secret work must be carried out in, well, secret. He flicked on the lights with a tap on his band so the room was illuminated.

The actual time travelling device was the size of an industrial walk-in fridge, like what is used in professional kitchens. It was made of a dark, almost black, metal making the machine look almost like a horror movie prop. He couldn't really imagine anyone choosing to go in there even with the lure of time travel.

The heavy door was laden with wires and different connections. Sam couldn't even imagine what it'd be like to have the door closed on you whilst knowing that there was every possibility that something could go terribly wrong. He shuddered at the thought.

He honestly couldn't believe that he was sending Dean in there with the knowledge that he could get hurt.

With some effort, he slammed the door shut and turned the big heavy lock to ensure that the door didn't fly off or anything during the testing process.

Pulling the backpack off his shoulders, Sam pulled out the device and strode over to the side of the machine where there was an import station. Different scientists and engineers had been working for months to try and get something that actually worked. Each control panel that had been built so far had not stood up to the rigorous power of the time traveling machine.

He hesitated before pushing his device into position. What if it all when wrong? What if all this work accumulated to nothing? If it broke he'd not only have to explain to Dean why he was still working on the piece but he'd also have to purchase Dean a real present. Where was he supposed to find a gift before tomorrow? Most stores would be closing in the next hour or so.

He shook the thoughts from his head; he had to remain optimistic. It could work! It'd be the first one to actually work. He'd probably get in trouble for working on it at home but he'd probably be highly commended for his achievement. That wasn't the priority. The priority was getting Dean home so he could spend Christmas Day with his family. That's if it was Christmas when Sam sends him home... Time is a complicated construct.

With a slight push, the device clips in seamlessly. There is no line to separate the machine from Sam's control panel. Only the difference in material revealed its location. Relieved it fits at all, Sam sighed before he began joining the wires together. It was a laborious and time consuming process but it had to be done to test the integrity of his device.

Eventually, the last wires were joint and the screen flashed white as electricity flowed through the circuit. Sam wanted to bounce up and down but he restrained himself, he could celebrate later. Right now, he had some testing out to do.

Options flickered up onto the screen but Sam's fingers lingered over them without selecting anything. His tongue darted out to dampen his lips before he pressed his finger tip down onto the activation option.

A low hum began to leak from the large machine and heat was beginning to pool from its metal surface. He typed out '25th December 2012' and clicked go.

The humming grew louder until Sam practically had to cover his ears. The lights flickered out of a few seconds before energy relit them. He hoped that the energy drop hadn't effected too much of the city. He'd be in massive trouble if he got caught. The humming died down in volume.

Unlocking the door, Sam peered inside. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for but the small room was still covered in wires and large magnetic panels with other sensors and atom developers. There was no fire which Sam took as a good sign.

Butterflies blossomed in his stomach, Dean was going to be thrilled. Grabbing the control panel, he slipped it into his bag and began to leave the building. He knew it'd take him a while to redo the wires to but it'd be worth it to see Dean's face when he unwraps it. He fled the building quickly, unsure to whether the authorities would be after the source of the energy dip.


	16. Chapter 16

He'd slipped the device into a box, which he'd purchased at the mall, before entering the apartment. He didn't want to ruin Dean's surprise!

He'd barely stepped into his own home when Dean was running up to him and rapidly saying, "Sam! There was like a power cut or something! All the lights and projector went off for a few minutes!" He took a breath, "I was worried about you." Even though Sam's arms were full of boxes and paper, Dean still pulled Sam into a tight embrace and a quick kiss. "You've got paper? Good!" It was clear that the hunter really had been worried as Dean often got waves of adrenaline when he got scared. "Don't come in the room while I'm wrapping!" He called as he jogged off towards the bedroom.

Sam watched the whirlwind zoom off into the bedroom leaving him slack jawed and overwhelmed. Shaking himself out of it, Sam bent down to leave the box under the Christmas tree. He'd scrawled Dean's name over the top in his messy writing. He grinned at the box sat there proudly. He'd just have to wrap the over gift before he left it under the branches too.

* * *

They were curled around each other on the couch but both were lost in their minds. Dean watched Sam carefully as the man seemed particularly worried about something but simply brushed off all of Dean's concerned questions. He barely mumbled an answer though as he was wrapped in his thoughts. Dean chuckled at his genius.

He couldn't believe it was already Christmas Eve. Their first Christmas together was tomorrow.

In a way, he felt as though they'd rushed into their relationship because Dean had always lived with Sam. There wasn't any gradual staying over until one day they decide to move in together. Dean kind of missed the ritual of dates and meeting up. He wished he could tell someone about Sam, like being able to go home at the end of the night and enthuse to Bobby about how awesome Sam was. He wondered if he'd ever actually do that. Would he go home and tell Bobby about his boyfriend from the future?

He wondered what Sam was thinking about, he wondered if it was the same as him and he wondered if they'd ever seem normal. It wasn't a secret that their relationship was not exactly normal.

Dean could never have guessed Sam's thoughts. He was trapped in his own head pondering the next day. His first Christmas with anybody since leaving home.

* * *

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse... That's a lie, the only creature moving inside Sam's apartment was the owner himself. He tossed and turned as sleep evaded him.

The hunter, on the other hand, oblivious to Sam's worries, had fallen easily to sleep after a goodnight kiss and curling up in his partner's encompassing arms. He had no idea that Sam wouldn't follow him into unconsciousness for several hours.

It felt as though someone was dying. Almost as though Sam had entered the stages of grieving before anyone had died, not that anyone around him was dying. He knew that Dean would return to his own life and would live a happy and fulfilling life. To keep Dean here would be selfish and, eventually, it would ruin his precious hunter. Dean was not the kind of person who was meant to be kept. He was made to travel and explore, rarely to settle in one place. That's why the hunting lifestyle had adapted so well to Dean. It was almost as though he was created for it.

Dean let out a sigh in his sleep as he turned to pull Sam closer to him. The tall man sighed too, subconsciously mimicking his partner. This was going to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done- letting go.

* * *

Dean was dragged from his sleep by a pleasant, but surprising, sensation.

Blinking open his eyes, the hunter found his partner straddling him with a bright grin plastered across his face. Dean's lips still tingled from the kiss that had woken him. Sam's hands stroked along Dean's bare sides, feeling the firm muscle below. Eyes dark and lustful, Sam leant down to once again capture the other's lips.

Immediately, the hunter's interest was lit so he leant up into the kiss while his hand travelled up to hold Sam's head in place. He was used to being in control in these situations. He didn't know where Sam was taking this but he knew of Sam's inexperience.

Curling his fingers into the long brown hair, Dean tugged lightly as the kiss became more frantic and desperate. He could feel his blood heading towards his cock as they became increasingly intense. Teeth nipped at lips and tongues wound around each other. Sam's hands wandered further and further.

He had to ask Sam first, he couldn't just assume, "Sam?" The man didn't stop trying to kiss Dean but the hunter was persistent, "Sam. Sammy? Listen to me." Only then did the hazel gaze settle on him, "Are you sure you want this? It doesn't have to be now, we can wait."

He was curious to what had triggered this sudden desire in Sam but he wasn't going to complain. The last 5 months he'd spent with Sam was the longest he'd been without sex in a very long time. He wasn't exactly known for abstinence when it came to, well, anything.

"I want this, Dean. I really do." With that he pulled their lips together again in a passionate kiss.

Sam's hands were desperately feeling along Dean's skin and, after the taller man's consent, the hunter allowed his own hands to roam. Sam moved his hips to and fro to give them slight friction between their pyjama pants.

"Sam." Dean moaned as his partner gave him the pressure he needed.

Without command, Dean's hips bucked up and he grunted. The taller man ground down on him, increasing the pressure. The hunter moaned into Sam's mouth as pleasure began to roll through him. Every touch of Sam's set his skin tingling and craving more.

If he could be woken up everyday like this then he'd be a very happy man. Although, he considered everyday waking up beside Sam a good start to his day anyway.

Deciding that perhaps he should take the lead, Dean wrapped has arms around his partner and rolled so he was now leaning over Sam. The tall man gasped at the unexpected movement but quickly became engrossed in working his hands further down the hunter's body.

His large hands followed the tight muscles on Dean's stomach until they reached the man's light happy trail. He hesitated a mere moment before slipping his hands under the waistband and taking a hold of the man.

There was a quick intake of breath as Dean's body suddenly became more sensitive. Using his limited knowledge as a guide, Sam allowed his fisted hand to work up and down Dean's swollen member. The hunter's head fell back, revealing his long throat, but he kept his fingers twisted in the lengthy strands of brown hair. He tugged on it gently, making Sam moan.

Seems that Dean had discovered a kink. He pulled again to gage the response. Sam moaned with lust practically oozing from the sounds. Without delay, Sam's grip tightened microscopically and his strokes increased in speed. Sam may have been sloppy but he made it up with enthusiasm.

"Sam." His words were thick and heavy with need. He'd been waiting over five months for Sam to be ready for this. It didn't seem that he'd be last long this time. They'd have to work on stamina.

Realising how selfish he was being, Dean reached into Sam's sleep pants and pulled out the man's hard cock. He felt Sam shiver due to his ministrations and couldn't help but feel somewhat proud that he could bring Sam to this.

The hunter stroked Sam's dick for a short while, his thumb working the leaking slit, and enjoying Sam's moans and gentle pants, before he pulled his body closer to Sam. He could tell that the man was slightly confused but he continued anyway. He took both their cocks into his palm and, whilst moving his hand, his hips began to glide back and forth.

The breath caught in his throat as the sensation rocked through his body. He knew he wouldn't last much longer with the way Sam was forcing his dick to rub against his. The pre-cum made the moments smoother and more sensual. With both of their hips moving and Dean's hand working to add more friction, they both didn't last long.

Sam came first, with his head thrown back and the hunter's name on his lips, and Dean was secretly pleased about that. He'd be slightly embarrassed to have less control than a virgin. He was a ladies man, after all... Well, used to be. Sam's cum offered lubricant allowing Dean to thrust himself against Sam with more speed and edged himself closer and closer.

It was Sam kissing along his jaw that finally pushed him over. He froze and closed his eyes as white imploded behind his eyelids. Breathless, he peeped open his eyes to find a wrung out looking Sam lying beneath him. The man's eyes were drifting closed as sleep was trying to pull him under again.

"Dean," Sam muttered, pulling his boyfriend down into an intimate embrace. He hesitated as though he had to consider what to say next, "Thank you."

Nuzzling into Sam's neck, Dean breathed in the familiar smell of his partner, "You don't have to thank me. I was more than happy to participate." He chuckled sleepily.

"Happy Christmas, De."

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

Placing soft kisses anywhere on Sam's flushed flesh, Dean waited until Sam was under a light slumber before he padded out to the bathroom to find a towel or cloth to clean them up.

It was minutes later that he was dragging Sam's arm over his body to reform the position he'd previously broken. Sam stirred lightly but his arms subconsciously dragged Dean's warmth closer. Dean relished in the moment, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

* * *

"Come on, Dean." He mumbled, dropping a kiss to his partner's lips, "It's Christmas!"

Dean's eyes slid open so he could stare across at his boyfriend with a light frown, "You never need much sleep, do you?"

Sam shrugged before jumping up from the bed and pulling a Christmas jumper over his mop of hair. Dean had insisted on these horrendous jumpers that would, undoubtedly, itch. Sam had played along and scoured the world for two ugly jumpers. Luckily, some woman from the UK handmade these vintage Christmas jumpers for them with a hefty price tag.

Begrudgingly, the hunter followed but he really was excited for Christmas with Sam. He was merely tired. Sam's body had somehow adapted to a strict sleeping schedule even if it meant that he only got a few hours of sleep every night. Dean, as a hunter, had nothing that could even be suggested as a Schedule. Hunter's sleeping patterns were notorious for being an absolute mess. Stake outs and midnight hunts often meant that these people would sleep during the day and stalk through graveyards or woods in the night. He couldn't comprehend how Sam found it difficult to lie in. Dean revelled staying in bed during the mornings. He'd been trying to get Sam to pick up the habit too but the man's work routine wouldn't allow it.

Intertwining their fingers, Sam dragged his tired partner through to the living area. He pushed the hunter down onto the couch before slipping off to grab all the presents under the tree. There were two for him and the same for Dean. They'd arranged this to make it fair.

Sam's stomach twisted in nervousness. Butterflies took flight inside the lining of his stomach and his heart squeezed tightly. How would Dean react? Will he react like expected or perhaps he'll surprise us all.

He carried the big box in his arms and balanced the three other gifts on top. They were all wrapped in identical wrapping, only the tags suggested their owner; Sam knew the presents he'd gotten for Dean anyway: the cube box and the wrapped envelope.

The green of the hunter's eyes seemed to brighten with curiosity as his gaze followed Sam's path. The idea of spending Christmas with someone still excited Dean and the thought of someone liking him enough to buy him a present simply blew him away. The taller made had found this absolutely adorable when the man had admitted it a few days previous.

Settling beside Dean, Sam placed the presents in the gap between them but caught the hunter's arm before he could grab for a present. Confusion filled the green eyes when he peered up.

"I want you to open mine after." He applied his most authoritative tone.

"Why?" The hunter's fingers moved slightly, subconsciously, from where Sam was holding his arm a few inches from the wrapping on the box. He didn't know whether there was some weird new-generation rule which meant that Sam's gifts must be left until last or if Sam just wanted to torture him with the waiting.

The tall man's lips curled slightly, "Because I said so."

Sighing and letting his shoulders slump, Dean begrudgingly pulling Sam's gifts from the pile and presented the first one to his partner. Despite his eagerness to open his own, he was still excited to watch Sam's reaction.

"Here," He held out the smaller present first, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

Sam took the present with gentle fingers to begin the unwrapping process. He couldn't understand the point of this paper as it seemed such a waste. This was probably how Dean's generation killed off so many trees. He liked the anticipation it provided though.

He already knew what it was once he'd only gotten half of the paper off. A new set of gleaming pens sat in his hands. It even gave a hint to his next gift.

"Thank you, Dean!" Sam cried, leaning over the pile to hug the hunter. "How did you find them?!" He knew how difficult it could be to track down pens and he was familiar with the area! It must have been a nightmare for his partner.

The hunter rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head, "I was originally looking for some fountain pens but... Nobody seemed to know what they are."

Sam frowned, "What's a fountain pen?"

Shaking his head, he laughed, "Don't worry, I'll show you one day."

Moving on with the conversation, he held out the second gift. From the shape, it was pretty obvious what it was but, like a good sport, Sam didn't ruin the fun but saying it. He took the thin rectangular box shape into his grasp and opened it up.

A fine notebook made of a plastic made to feel like paper with a deep forest green faux leather cover. The swirls that were pressed into it took Sam's breath away with their form and smoothness. He bit his lip and held back tears at the thought which was put into his gift. Dean showed that he really did listen to what Sam liked. He'd thought about him. Sam didn't want to let him go.

"Dean, I don't know- I don't know what to say." He blinked as his eyes met Dean's.

The hunter leant forward until they were close enough for him to hook a hand around Sam's neck and pull him in for a kiss. Translating his thanks through the kiss, Sam held on and never wanted to release his partner. Each second was a second closer to loosing the one he loved.

Breaking apart, the men stayed close as they smiled and just appreciated each other for a moment. Sam wondered what his partner was thinking but didn't speak the question aloud. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

"You next?" Sam offered. They both ignored how his voice sounded a little croaky.

The green eyed man nodded with an excited grin, like a kid at Christmas.

Sam had already made the decision of which to present to Dean first. It wasn't a hard choice, the small envelope would be what his boyfriend got first. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he held the thin present out for Dean.

The hunter looked curious but didn't hesitate when he started unwrapping the gift. His actions were careful, slow and conscious of the delicate paper inside. He could feel it's fragility from just holding it. Paper wasn't very rigid.

He frowned upon opening the gift. It was a normal sized, white envelope but there was Sam's beautiful scrawl on the front.

 _For Dean Winchester, to be opened in one week. Love always, Sam X_

The paper was thick suggesting that there were many pieces of paper inside the main envelope but a part from that, Dean couldn't deduce anything more. He raised an eyebrow

"You realise that you're supposed to give the actual gift on Christmas Day, right?" He tried to hold in his laughter and was mostly successful until Sam burst into a fit of giggles. They laughter together until their bellies hurt and eyes were wet from tears.

"Yes, I know that, Dean!" In a split second he'd come up with an explanation, "But this is a gift that'll keep giving."

The hunter nodded, keen on the idea of being able to wait for when he could open it. It'd give him something to look forward to over the next week. He pondered what could be inside. He didn't really know much about different documents these days. What could he need? Credits? His own bank account? Citizenship? He didn't want a band though.

"Are you going to open the next one?" Sam leant his head like a puppy that couldn't understand its owner. A smirk decorated his lips as of course Dean wanted his next gift.

Picking up the large box, Sam placed it gently onto Dean's lap. The future man was so soft with the box that Dean was convinced he'd have to take extra special care not to damage the contents.

Sam pulled his legs up so he sat cross legged on the couch beside his boyfriend. Excitement and worry layered in his eyes, Dean had leant what both of these emotions looked like painted into Sam's eyes.

"Okay, here I go." He slid a finger under one edge of the wrapping to neatly separate it. Like almost everything Sam did, his wrapping was meticulous. There was no creases and ever corner was folded with care. The older man adored how Sam put time and effort into every little thing.

He pulled a large black box out from the paper in confusion before he prized the lid of the box from its base. His eyes gazed upon the contents with a confused flash. Perhaps it was even a little disappointed.

"Umm, thanks, Sam. This is really... Great." His hands dipped into the gift to pull out the table sized rectangle with wires dangling from it. "Wait! Isn't this the project you were working on for work?" A crease formed as the frown pulled at his brows.

"It wasn't really for work, sweetheart." Dean had introduced Sam to stereotypical pet names for people in relationships and he'd really loved a few of them. The hunter began to wish he'd never taught him them.

No less confused, he placed the device on the couch beside him so he could pull out the other stuff. The long haired man was desperately trying not to smile as Dean's confusion but it really was adorable. The hunter pulled out the next item.

His old and worn leather jacket hung from his fingers. It looked no different, had Sam changed it? It felt the same. Looking down into the box he saw that all his past clothes were folded neatly at the bottom. Everything he was wearing was placed in the box even down to the very pair of socks and the boxer shorts he'd travelled in.

"What is this, Sam?" He was lost and nothing was making it any more clear. Why would Sam give him the gift of his own clothes? Maybe it was what people did now and Dean was greatly disrespecting him by seeming so ungrateful. "Thank you, Sammy. It's so great." He pulled a smile onto his face.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Sam leant closer.

Dean shook his head while his fingers smoothed the familiar leather of his jacket, it had been packed away in Sam's cupboard for weeks now. He'd actually forgotten that he'd brought it with him.

Sam swallowed and straightened, ready to explain, "That's the device I've been working on for months but I haven't been making it for work. I've been making it for you... Surprise!"

"For me?" He suddenly seemed way more enthusiastic once knowing that he'd had this whole device custom made especially for him. He'd seen the amount of time Sam had spend building this so it must be good! "What does it do?" He picked it up and began turning it in his hands, getting all the angles.

"It's a control panel... For a time machine." There was silence.

Dean couldn't wrap his head around the words from Sam's mouth. Time travel? They could go home? They could be back with Cas and Bobby?! Was he being serious? Did Sam seriously have the skill required to make this?!

"You're joking." Dean stated in shock.

There was a bubble of laughter from the scientist, "I'm not joking."

"It can travel time?" He asked stupidly.

Luckily, Sam tolerated all of his shocked and stupid questions, "It can take you back."


	17. Chapter 17

_**This chapter had to be short. Sorry x**_

* * *

The corners of Dean's eyes crinkled up as the smile pushed up his cheeks. The green sparkled as joy washed through him. Without thinking, he pulled Sam into him, partway hugging him tightly and partly kissing him. He couldn't decide on an action that would truly portray his gratitude. He'd always been seriously indebted to Sam but now, he owed him the world. He could finally go home!

"Now?!" The hunter leapt to his feet with the leather jacket gripped within his fingers. His white teeth bit down on his bottom lip to stop himself bursting with excitement. Sam had never seen him so excited.

Sam's lips curled into a smile. He nodded, "Right now." There was a moment as Dean pulled his boyfriend into a tight embrace, "Well, quick! Go and get your old clothes on. You don't wanna leave anything behind!"

Frantically nodding, Dean shot off to Sam's bedroom where he could dump his pyjama pants and climb into the familiar outfit. It had grown slightly tight from the lack of exercise but he dismissed the thought. In seconds, he was ready to go; dressed head to toe in his old whiskey and gunpowder scented clothes. Dashing out, he saw Sam pulling his t-shirt on. He was going a little slower than the hunter but Dean guessed that it was because he was hesitant to leave the only world he'd ever known. Now it would be Dean's chance to be the host and carer.

"Come on, Sam!" He cried, pacing towards the door with impatience written through every coiled muscle. Hurt shot across Sam's face but too quickly for the hunter to think anything of it.

Looking down, the future man sighed, "I'm coming." He pulled on his shoes before jogging to catch up with his partner. Once he reached Dean, he stopped and peered into the green of his eyes for a moment before pulling something up and sliding it into the inside pocket of the leather jacket.

The envelope slid in effortlessly and Sam kind of frowned at the finality of it all.

"You nearly forgot this." His whispered. Speaking louder would have revealed the cracking in his voice and lump in his throat. His eyes lingered on the line of paper he could see slightly above the pocket. His eyes moved as his gaze followed along the sharp line.

Following Sam's line of sight, Dean peered down at the breast pocket and felt curiosity ignite within him again. His fingers itched just to pull it open and uncover the secrets hidden inside.

"Okay, let's go." Sam was the first to snap himself out of the trance. He turned towards the hidden cupboard, pulled out his jacket and left the room in one single sweep. Maybe Sam really is enthusiastic to come home with me? Dean pondered.

* * *

"I know where we are!" Dean cried like a pleased child. Sam let a smile grace his lips. "This is where we met. Under your work."

"Yep, you were wandering around over there like some Hangeron." Sam mumbled as his ProJeneration was pulled into its usual parking spot by the tracks. Dean didn't know the word Hangeron but he assumed it was modern speak for tramp or something.

The hunter leapt out while peering around the space; it was only the second time he'd ever been here. Kind of bizarre how he'd arrived here and his time was ending here. Something about that didn't settle right with the hunter.

* * *

He wanted to sneak. Dean so desperately wanted to sneak down the long bare corridors towards the room with the machine inside but Sam merely strolled casually. It was pretty dark with only light coming in from the windows from a few of the lab rooms. A handful of the doors had windows on the doors which allowed the light into the corridor. It wasn't bright enough for it not to feel like trespassing though.

Green eyes scanned the names next to the doors as they hurried down the corridor. Pride swelled within him when they passed the door with Sam's name printed there. It was such a shame that they were losing such a powerful employee but Dean couldn't care less. He was getting Sam.

He followed his partner as the other man was confident in his direction. Their footsteps echoed in the eerie way which Dean associated with old decrepit buildings not these new skyscrapers.

Dean noticed how Sam kept checking over his shoulder at the hunter but the scientist tried not to make a big thing out of it. A subtle action which showed how the man wanted to keep reassuring himself that Dean was behind him.

"Come on," Sam spoke softly as he opened the last door and flicked on the lights with his bracelet. He coughed to clear his throat.

Sam slumped onto the floor beside the machine so he could begin reconnecting the wires with a professional efficiency. A few minutes later, Dean joined his boyfriend, knelt on the cold floor.

"So, how will it take us back?" He asked, eager to get going.

"Us?" Sam's head whipped around to stare at Dean with wide eyes, "No, just you." He accentuated the last word to emphasise it.

"What do you mean just me?!" Appalled at the thought, Dean cried. Sam was connecting the last few wires so didn't stop even when Dean's voice was begging for his attention. He couldn't stop now or he'd change his mind and keep the Hunter. "I'm not leaving you behind!" He argued.

"Of course you're leaving me behind." Sam corrected while trying to hold his resolve.

"You're fucking with me, right?" Lines creased the skin of Dean's forehead as stress flowed through him.

Sam threw his hands down onto his thighs, "Dean, you have no life here!" Moisture was collecting in his eyes.

"You're my life."

"Don't be ridiculous. Bobby and Cas are probably waiting for you right now, worried sick." His tone was sharp only because he was scared any other tone would reveal the waver in his voice.

"Sam, I can't." Tears were threatening to overflow but Dean fought them.

"Yes, you can and you will." With that, Sam joined the last remaining wire and stood, hauling Dean to his feet at the same time. There was a moment when the hunter tired to capture Sam's gaze but the man was moving again all too quickly.

"Come on, Dean." He mumbled as he pulled at the heavy metal door. It weighed a tonne but he managed to swing it open again. With wet eyes, he stood, peering down at the floor, as he leant against the door just waiting for Dean to see sense and step in. It only took a minute or so of silence before Dean finally did it.

The hunter turned to face Sam with tears making his eyes shine. He looked confused, hurt and betrayed. He wanted Sam with him.

"Why can't you come?"

"That's not the way the machine works. I have to wait out here and control the power fluxes and time graphs... If there were anyway I could..." Looking away, Sam wiped a tear from his cheek. "I'm sorry, Dean."

No giving the man an opportunity to speak more, the hunter pulled them together into a tight embrace before kissing him until they could no longer breathe. Dean's fingers stroked Sam's hair, memorising the feel, as the tips of Sam's fingers traced over the older man's skin. Their tears merged.

Sam pulled away to hold Dean at arms length so he could look over him, "You're going to go home to Bobby and Castiel and you will get your handsome ass hunting, saving people and you will move on." He instructed. "You won't mope around, you won't wait for me as its just not gunna happen and you certainly will not feel guilty for being with other people." He tried to ignore his wet cheeks, "I want you to be happy, Dean. Don't let me hold you back because if you go home and be sad then I might as we have kept you here." Sam swallowed, "Go and do what you do best, save people like you have saved me." A weak smile was forced onto his lips. It was probably meant to be encouraging.

Dean tried to hold on as Sam pulled away. He couldn't let him go, he couldn't promise those things. Without Sam, they seemed less important. More insignificant.

"I love you, De." Sam murmured as he pushed the solid door closed. The slamming sound echoed inside the machine and throughout the laboratory. Dean was plunged into darkness.

Feeling a deep ache within his chest, Dean replied to nobody in a meek whisper, "I love you too, Sammy."


	18. Chapter 18

The tears in Sam's eyes made it difficult to read the words on his screen but he fought through it; he couldn't keep Dean waiting for too long. No use preventing the inevitable. Swallowing, he ran the time graph to find dents in the time structure. This would suggest that the linear timeline had been disrupted there by previous time travel, like Dean's trip.

2012 had several notches in the line but Sam was unable, especially in his rush, to find which one would be Christmas Day. It'd be nice to send him back on a special day. It'd be a nice present for Bobby and Castiel. That way, Sam could kind of give a present to all three.

The man breathed in a lungful of air before pushing down on a part of the line. The machine wasn't 100% accurate but it was okay to be a few days out. As long as his partner returned to the right time and, hopefully, place then everyone would be happy.

He hesitated for a second before steeling his nerve and pulling down the lever that was positioned on the side of the metal.

The whole laboratory was suddenly black apart from lights on the machine. The humming sound grew louder and louder until Sam had to cover his ears. You could practically hear it working and the particles flying through the air. The sound of alarms going off sounded throughout the city. Emergency energy generators fought, and failed, to light up the city; Sam was draining the whole system for this trip.

Suddenly, like a flick of a switch, the lights were illuminated and the room was silent. The only sound came from outside the building where the alarms still blared and the sound of new energy hummed deeply as the power surged into the lines creating a swell of power. Chaos on the other side of those walls.

The control panel was fuzzy like static on an old TV. Clearly, the trip had fried the inner workings of the device. Heat was radiating from it.

He blinked before dampening his lips with his tongue. He didn't want to look inside. What if it had gone wrong? What if he'd killed Dean? It was a realistic possibility.

His long legs took a large step towards the door. Anticipation rolled through him in waves.

As he reached out of the handle, he could feel the heat almost melting off the large metal contraption. With the amount of energy it'd consumed, Sam really wasn't surprised. He was hesitant to touch the door as it seemed a step closer to discovering whether it worked or killed his boyfriend. The latter option was the one he was really against... the most.

His finger wrapped around the handle and he tugged it down, hearing the bolt slide across with a clunk. The metal vibrated with the noise.

Gripping the handle tightly between his fingers, he tugged making the door swing open. Sam stared into the machine and his stomach dropped as a deep empty feeling took root in his belly.

Dean was gone.

The machine was empty with no evidence that anybody had even been there. The heat poured out of the small area as though he was opening an oven. It washed over him like he'd just stepped of a plane in a hot country.

"Dean." His voice wobbled as his throat constricted tightly.

There was nothing. The small space was empty and the floor was bare. There wasn't even evidence to suggest that the hunter had even set foot in there. Sam's eyes scanned the inside, looking for anything that could get Dean in trouble. He didn't care about himself; he knew what was coming his way but if they mastered time travel then they could go back to the hunter and punish him. Sam wouldn't allow that.

Ensuring he left the room as good as new, aside from the burnt out control panel, Sam fled from the room and began striding down the corridor with a swift urgency. It couldn't happen here. He didn't want it to happen here on these cold floors.

He was a matter of meters from the elevator when he felt the process beginning to happen. At first he didn't even notice it as thoughts of Dean kept his mind occupied for the most part. He only began to notice once the anaesthetic began to leak into his bloodstream. That was definitely a feature of the bracelet that he was sceptical about but apparently it wasn't just a myth.

The anaesthetic came in contact with his skin just above the veins in his wrist so it was easily transferred into the blood. He knew it was coming or was at least prepared that it was a possibility. Many people believed that the band wasn't capable of this.

His thoughts grew sluggish. It took great time for his mind to jump from thought to thought. Legs, arms and head became heavy but he didn't get much time to process that before he was falling. The cold floor was his landing spot.

Blinking, he just remembered staring off across the shiny floor as the occasional slow blink sent his world into pitch black. He had no more control over his body, instead he could only let himself slip under the embrace of the dark.

* * *

"Mr Wesson." The voice was gentle but authoritative; not the nicest thing to wake to. Nothing like how Dean spoke to him. Who was in his bed?

He cracked his eyes open despite how much energy it took to complete the action. His whole body was working to keep him sleeping for longer. A woman with dark brown hair sat with one leg folded over the other. Her suit was finely pressed and professional. She certainly wasn't Dean. For one, she was a woman.

It took a moment for his brain to catch up but eventually he remembered. Dean wasn't here. He wouldn't be coming back. Did he even make it back? He felt his heart grow heavy as he realised the reality of sending his boyfriend back. There would forever be a haunting unknown.

"I'm glad to see you've decided joining us." Her voice held a light joking tone but her face remained like stone, "I'm Madison and I'm here to ask a few questions."

Sam tried to sober up but the sleeping drug was still there like a weight in his mind. He wanted to shake it off.

"Questions?" Confused, he asked.

She nodded, making her side bang move with the action, "About yesterday at 1:56pm." She was firm.

Sam sat and blinked as nothing came to mind. He pulled himself to sit up but as he did, his back groaned in protest. He'd obviously been out for a while.

"You were in the laboratory on Christmas Day and used the Time Jump machine."

It took a moment but the memories began to slowly bleed back, a few images at a time. The empty machine, the last goodbye, the sending Dean away. He couldn't think about it; he wouldn't allow himself that. The knot inside him tightened but he pushed it deep like he'd learnt to do with emotions.

"Yes, I was." He answered truthfully.

"And what were you doing in there?" She leant forward on her chair but Sam didn't find it intimidating, he barely looked at her.

"I was seeing if it worked. I've been working on the control panel for months and I finally had it finished. I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to test it."

"Couldn't it wait three days?" Leaning her head, she asked.

His hair moved as he shook his head, "I am intimidated by failure... I wasn't going to let anyone witness when it didn't work." Adding truth to the lie made it harder for the band to discern truth from lie. He sighed, "None of the others worked so I didn't have high hopes."

"So this one didn't work?"

Shrugging, he leant back slightly as his body was still lacking the energy to hold himself straight.

"They never work." His arms crossed over his chest.

"So you just drained the national electricity supply for no reason?"

Sam's brow creased into an ugly scowl, "I told you the reason. You're just choosing not to believe it." There was a finality in his words. She wasn't getting another fact out of him anytime soon. He was stubborn enough to hold.

Madison sighed, rubbing her face, before she stood and left without another word to the man. Sam wouldn't have wanted to make casual conversation anyway; he was their prisoner. The government will keep him here for as long as they choose and nobody will have the power or authority to question it.

The drugs still made him tired as though he hadn't slept in days. The cell was mainly gray concrete but there was the bed/bench that he was sitting on. It was hard but a thin blanket was folded at the end of the bed. Pulling it up, he lay down and closed his eyes. He tried to silence his mind as it thought about Dean. Whether he'd made it back or was stuck in another time period. Maybe he didn't even make it out of this time but had been scattered into particles in the air. He hoped not.

The drugs in his system were just strong enough to gently coax him under.

* * *

A noise began to invade his unconsciousness. It pulled him closer to the world of reality and out of his own head.

"Sam Wesson." The voice hissed sharply. "Wesson, wake up."

Blinking, a view of his dull cell entered his line of sight. A sideways view, anyway. It took a moment for his brain to play catch up but soon enough his eyes were focusing on a man standing by his glass cell door with an all white uniform and a tablet in his gloved hands.

He pushed himself up and stared at the man in confusion. Was he free to go? He'd never heard of the government being so soft on lawbreakers before...

"You have a visitor." The man touched the pad making the glass door slide open with a gentle hiss of air pressure.

From around the corner of the wall, Jess stepped out awkwardly, seemingly over aware of the guard on his tablet. She didn't say a word until the door had shut and the guard's footsteps had grown quiet. Not that they'd really get any privacy. Not here of all places.

"Sam!?" She hissed as she lowered herself down onto the edge of Sam's solid bed. Disapproval sharpened her tone. "What do you think you were doing?!"

Sam's mind was heavy. He felt drained and empty as though Dean had taken a part of Sam with him when he left. Hazel eyes stung as tears threatened to overflow. He blinked while refusing to make eye contact with her.

"Sam." Jessica's voice was gentler with concern laced within. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He peered up at her from where his head was bowed and his lips screwed up into a heartbroken scowl. He fought not to cry. He couldn't cry, Dean wouldn't have wanted him to cry and dwell.

"Oh no, Sam." She pulled him into her arms. Her warm embrace acted to console and seriously comfort him. His soul was uneasy.

Jess knew what had happened. She didn't need for him to say it; it read on his face. He was gone. The only love of Sam's life was suddenly gone without time for long goodbyes or making the most of every last second.

"Is that why you were there? You were trying to join him?" Her fingers gently soothed the back of his hair.

Sniffing, Sam shook his head and spoke, "I was there because I sent him away."

Jess pulled back to stare down at her friend as though he'd grown three heads but her brows straightened out again as she thought it through.

"It's okay, Sam." Jessica rested her head against his hair, "I'm here. We'll get through this together, okay? It'll be hard but we will make it."

Sobs began to break from Sam's lips but he couldn't control it. It was almost like he'd held it inside since the moment he'd opened the door to reveal his partner gone.

Jess simply held tighter as Sam's body shook. The sound of his cries echoed throughout the cell and corridors.


	19. Chapter 19

"Hey, Sam." The voice crackled out from the band on his wrist. Another answer message from Jessica again. "I'm just checking in again. Your profile says that you're blood sugar is slow and emotionally... You're not doing so well. I might pop around tonight or tomorrow just to catch up, okay?" The voice sighed, "Okay, remember that I love you. See you soon." There was a slight beep as the message ending.

It was the third message from Jess that he'd gotten in the last 24 hours. He was yet to reply to any of them. She knew he wasn't dead though since she had access to government files which showed her the status of citizens. The bands regularly sent updates to the files. She'd know if something terrible happened to him.

It had been over a week since the government let him go home. They had strict tracking on him since then and he received notifications every few hours reminding him of how his job, career, apartment and, basically, life was on the line if he decided to act out again.

Sam was in complete darkness again once the light from the bracelet turned out. He'd began to embrace the darkness now.

* * *

Sam's bed was large, too large, which had never been a problem until now. It wasn't until he felt so small that everything around him felt so unnaturally large, almost as though there was always just this excess of space. He tried not to actively think about it but he knew that the space was meant for Dean.

His heart ached which wasn't a wholly unfamiliar sensation. He'd felt a more severe form of this when Meg had died. It felt fresh now even after all these years of moving on from her, it hurt again. Maybe it was just the soul crushing loneliness that was getting to him and bring up all old feelings.

The bed was cold and felt wrong. It's strange how quickly a person gets used to a person sleeping beside them. Sam frequently glanced over to Dean's side of the bed but it almost always left stinging tears in his hazel eyes. He could stretch out but it almost felt like that side of the bed no longer belonged to him; it was someone else's. It was Dean's.

Silence became his worst enemy which is bizarre since Sam grew up loving the quiet, away from the roads and thicker smog. It was now empty, lacking something, missing a piece.

Dean didn't like the lack of sound. He liked to hum and sing to fill silences so perhaps Sam had become conditioned to that as well.

His bracelet glowed a weak orange color occasionally.

* * *

-/~\\-/~\\-

His stomach had been left behind, somewhere in a different time period. The falling sensation took a few seconds to subside and, when it did, he opened his eyes to take in the world around him.

The smell of whiskey and old wood surrounded the hunter making him realise his location before his eyes had taken anything in.

He was home.

Bobby stood with one arm crossed his chest and the other reaching up to scratch at his whiskered face. His lips were turned down. His familiar cap sat atop his head like always.

Castiel, stood a metre or so away from the old hunter, had a deep creases in his forehead and his eyes had confusion sparkling within them. His familiar trench coat hung from his shoulders like always and Dean had a stab of reminiscence.

He ran forward and pulled the old hunter into the tightest hug he'd ever given the man and didn't release him until he was sure his tears were not going to flow over. He immediately turned to Castiel afterwards and embraced him as well. The awkward angel struggled with the interaction but he refused to let him go.

Stepping back, he took a breath and peered back and forth between his two closest friends. The grin was hurting his cheeks but he couldn't care less.

There was a beat where Bobby stared at him suspiciously, "So did it work?"

The young man blinked for a moment, brain not keeping up. Slowly, he turned his head and peered down at the wooden floorboards where he'd been standing. The candles were still lit, herbs and Ingredients were scattered in the circle of saint's blood.

"What..." Baffled, he peered around. Did he not go at all? Was this all some mind trick? Does Sam not exist?!

"Did it work, son? Did you go to Colt?" The hunter was eager to move on with the case. They'd been working on it for so long now that he just wanted to move on from it.

Quietly, almost solemn, the young Winchester asked, "What is the date?"

The old hunter and even older angel shared a look before Bobby spoke up. Perhaps Cas didn't even know the date, "29th of April, 2012."

"He sent me back to the exact minute that I left." He breathed to himself. Eyes getting damp, "How did he manage that?" He might not have a full understanding of time but he knew it was beyond complex and it must have been a challenge for the tall man to calculate his exact destination.

Dean slumped across to the couch and flopped down onto it. He passed a hand over his weary face and sighed. Sammy.

"Where did you go, Dean?" The angel's gruff voice interrupted his thoughts.

"The future." He spoke to the air, "Definitely not to Samuel Colt."

The angel hovered awkwardly while Bobby slipped off to the kitchen to snag some beers for them. Dean looked like he was going to need it. He was always open to alcohol no matter what time of day it was.

"I could tell something was wrong as I sent you there. It didn't feel right but I had no control almost like fate." His voice was gruff but so familiar that it warmed the hunter's heart. "I'm truly sorry for the distress I've caused you."

"You didn't cause me any distress, Cas." He reassured the trench coat wearer.

"I didn't? Then why are you upset?" He inquired, frowning. "Did something happen?"

Dean considered not telling them. He thought about keeping Sam to himself almost to keep him fresh and with him by not spreading him around for everyone else to interpret. They'd never truly capture his essence and who he was. Bobby was placing the beer on the small table beside him when he finally spoke again.

"I met someone out there." Dean considered how it sounded as though he'd been away and developed a summer romance. He hated that. Sam wouldn't have wanted it to sound like that.

"You met someone? How long were you 'out there'?" Bobby asked as he settled into his chair. He'd been on the go most the morning setting up the ritual so his joints were beginning to ache. He wasn't as young as he used to be and his body enjoyed reminding him of that.

"I was there for over six months; from the beginning of summer to Christmas Day." He swallowed, "And I met someone called Sam, Sam Wesson."

"You met a guy? So what?" The old hunter couldn't uncover what Dean was implying.

Dean hadn't discovered his bisexuality until after he began living with Sam and fell for the guy. Bobby hadn't known Dean to like anything but women so he had no reason to suspect. Castiel had a constipated look on his face, suggesting that he had some suspicion.

The young man shifted where he sat, "He... Um, we... We were in a relationship, Bobby."

The hunter's eyes widened minutely but not enough to display disgust. He was clearly just shocked by the admission. He took a swing from the beer before looking up at Dean again with a sympathetic smile.

"You had to leave him behind?"

Blinking to stop tears forming, the hunter sighed, "He made me leave. Said that you guys would be waiting for me and that I had no life in his world... I guess he was kinda right."

"He did the right thing." Bobby soothed the man. "We need you here and the hunting community needs you here. Don't know what we would have done if you'd disappeared for six months."

"Time is complex." Castiel added almost needlessly.

The angel was still stood to the side looking awkward, like usual. He still felt bad for getting Dean lost in time, no matter what the hunter said. Both the hunters looked at the angel almost curiously for a moment before dismissing any questions. In reality, they'd never get their heads around what Castiel thought about. It was probably strange Angel stuff anyway.

Dean sighed. He'd missed this world with its familiar beer, couches and faces. It felt like he'd returned from a disappointing vacation with a sense of relief. Even the air felt stiller, less full.

"So, what's it like? In the future?" Bobby managed to ask. He didn't want to upset Dean but he was curious.

The leant his head and scratched his stubble, there were different angles all with positive and negatives. The technology and advancements were totally awesome but at the same time there was crippling poverty and claustrophobic government controls. It didn't take him long to decide.

"It's crappy. Really crappy. I just... You'd hate it." He smiled at the old hunter. The man was too free spirited and independent to ever be bound to a device such as the bracelet. "Obviously, there's good parts but it's nothing like you see in movies and nothing like anyone dreams of." He sighed, "Some amazing people are surrounded by such disgusting things but they still manage to keep themselves right. I don't understand it." He thought of Sam, Jess, Sam's family, and Liu from the charity centre, "I just hope Sam doesn't crumble without me."

There was silence as Bobby's perception of the future was drastically altered. Nothing to look forward to or wait for. Almost seems better to cling to the past. The hunter had questions about this Sam guy but he knew they should wait. He wasn't uncaring.

Dean coughed, "I hope you guys don't mind if I hit the hay? It just, it's been a long day and it's taken it out of me."

Bobby stood, "No, not at all. Sleep well." He muttered.

Flashing a brief smile, Dean retreated upstairs to the guest bedroom. Bobby watched the young man's back as he left the room. Uneasiness settled over the room and instantly, everyone knew that everything wasn't going to be okay.

* * *

Dean had never realised how silent it was in Bobby's house at night. The nearest neighbor a long walk away and the road in front of the scrapyard practically deserted meant that there was no noise aside from the occasional bird or animal in the distance. It was haunting the hunter.

There was no electricity humming which didn't sit right with man. It was strange how quickly he'd adopted the sound into his world; something that had seemed so out of place suddenly seemed missing. He craved the white noise.

His heartbeat was loud and heavy in his chest as its beating was one of the most distinct sounds around. His small queen bed was too large and oversized for one person. The familiar blankets lacked their usual comforting quality.

He turned to his side and peered into the darkness. Eyes slow with weariness his gaze traced the shadows in the black. What was Sammy doing now? Was he sleeping or perhaps lying awake like his partner? Were they still partners? Probably not since they'd never see each other again. Was he stretched out enjoying the softness and warmth of his bed? Instead of lying in darkness feeling numb. Groaning to himself, he flipped over towards the window but no light shone through.

"Sammy?" The hunter whispered, "Why did you send me back? This isn't worth it." He blinked slowly and wrapped himself tighter into the blanket. The lack of heat beside him was bizarre. It was strange how quickly his body grew used to the constant warmth.

He closed his eyes despite his unrest-fulness. It may have have taken minutes, it may have taken hours but eventually he drifted to sleep.

Despite being home, he'd never felt so lost in his life.


	20. Chapter 20

"Dean!" The sound of calling dragged him out of sleep. His body protested as he only managed a couple of real hours. "I'm cookin' eggs! Yer want some?" The grizzly voice penetrated through the floorboards from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" Dean's voice was raspy and fought to stop the noise, "I'll be right down."

It was so weird how it had all adjusted back to normal life. Bobby up early, cooking breakfast whilst, undoubtedly, doing research for some hunter Dean had never heard of. It was just the way the old man worked and it was impressive. He was constantly on the go.

Hauling himself out of bed, the young man clambered into some clothes before just about managing to slump down stairs. He tried to ignore how his favourite T-shirt felt tight, a sign of his previously luxurious lifestyle. Although, Sam managed to somehow keep fit... Maybe it was those suspicious flecks in the porridge breakfast. The hunter was always sceptical of their purpose.

The floorboards squeaked as he lumbered across them. He had missed that.

"Sleep well? Good to be back in a familiar bed?" The older man chuckled as he served up the eggs with a side of bacon. He presented the dish in front of Dean unceremoniously, like always.

Awkward, the young man scratched the back of his neck, "Um, after 6 months, any bed can become familiar."

Bobby froze with his fork dangling an inch from his breakfast. Lines decorated his forehead.

"You stayed in one place for the whole 6 months?"

Dean blinked before answering, "Yeah, why?"

"So no sleeping rough, having to find somewhere to stay or anything like that?" The experienced hunter seemed bewildered by the truth. The story obviously seemed more dramatic in the other man's mind. It wasn't usual for a hunter to get by easily. Everyday life had to be a struggle, that's the way hunters lived.

"Sam found me on the first day." Dean clarified. His breakfast seemed less important now.

"And this is the same Sam as..."

"Yes, the Sam that eventually became my partner." He bravely held eye contact to prove his certainty.

The old hunter nodded and shovelled his food into his open mouth, seemingly okay with that fact. Dean knew his real father wouldn't have had the same reaction. To be honest, he was happy not thinking about what his father would have said. The man wasn't exactly open minded.

"Was he... What was he like?" Bobby didn't know how to go about asking questions about his lover which was understandable. Asking about anyone Dean slept with was awkward let alone if you just had the bisexual aspect sprung on you too.

"Smart." He smiled, reminiscing. Bobby smiled too. It had been such a long time since he'd seen Dean truly smile. They'd been drowned the the case and the pressure of saving the world always seemed to be upon Dean's shoulders, "So goddamned smart! I don't even know how it was possible. He was kind too and honest. One of his arms is like... A robot because he's like a scientist-engineer person so his colleagues decided to fix his arm when he lost the use of his real one." He chuckled remembering when he first saw Sam's mechanical arm.

"He sounds nice." Honesty shone into Bobby's features. He was just happy to know that Dean was looked after.

The continued eating in silence but Dean wasn't hungry. His appetite had slipped away during the conversation. Maybe missing Sam was going to be harder than he originally thought. It wasn't just something he could just think about when he chose. Can't turn on and off emotions like a light switch.

Standing, the young hunter dumped his plate in the sink before making a swift exit, "I'm just going out for a few minutes." He'd left before Bobby had a chance to speak.

* * *

It was warm outside in the scrapyard but Dean was too much in his own head to really pay much attention to the weather. He walked until nobody could see him before slipping into a rusty old car, left forgotten deep in the yard. The frame was one of the last parts left but the teared up seats were still in the front. He didn't care if they were damp, he sat down.

Fingers tapped the dashboard in a tuneless beat. Green eyes scanned around the yard, trying everything to ignore the stinging in the back of his eyes. His stomach hurt like it was twisting inside him. He didn't like it.

"Sammy." His voice broke as he muttered.

He had nothing to say. He wasn't a man of words, he didn't have grand speeches ready to go or large gestures of love. Sam wasn't even here to appreciate them anyway.

Sam wasn't even alive. He wasn't born yet and was yet to make an impact on the world. Nobody knew of his existence and nobody loved him. Sam deserved to be loved always. Tears pricked his eyes but he wouldn't allow them to roll down his cheek. He lost a boyfriend of a few months... It wasn't like someone was dead.

The seat was damp and soaking into his jeans; Dean ignored it.

"Dean?" The voice was harsh and gruff but Dean would have jumped even if the voice was a smooth, silky baritone. "I'm glad I found you."

The Angel peered across at the hunter from where he was sat on the passengers seat of the rusting car. The semi-permanent forehead creases were there. An almost permanent state of confusion. His trench coat pooled around him.

"I've caused you distress. I am sorry."

"Cas, it's not your fault." He mumbled whilst hoping the tears would just disappear now.

"It is my fault. I should have been significantly more cautious before sending you away even though I had very little control. They say that fate pulls soulmates together and that's why I couldn't stop you going... Are you familiar with the sensation of falling just before you sleep?"

Sceptical, Dean raised an eyebrow, "Of course."

"That is the fates reaching into the human world to pull you to your significant other. They're very impatient and do not wish to wait for partners to find each other naturally. Of course, your body cannot flow like your soul so it acts as a physical barrier. That's why you seemed to jump awake. I, in making your state fluid, made it possible for the fates to move you. I apologize."

"Sam's my soulmate?" The hunter peered into the distance at the house he could see between some broken down old cars. Castiel nodded, "And he's stuck in the future and I'm stuck here."

"I'm sorry, Dean." The Angel muttered again before disappearing.

* * *

"There you are!" The elder man exclaimed.

The door slammed shut behind Dean as he stepped into the house. He spun around to see who'd spoken, "Me?"

"Yes! D'you think you could help me out here?" He gestured to the books piled on the desk. Realising Dean's confusion, Bobby pointed on a pile of six on the very edge of the table, "You were working on them... You might have to re-read... Sorry."

The young man flashed a weak smile, "Don't worry. It'll just be nice to actually be doing something that help others again. I wasn't needed over the last few months." He chuckled.

Settling down in a chair, Dean lifted one of the large tomes and dropped it onto his lap. According to Bobby, Dean would have been reading this very book less than 48 hours ago but for Dean, it had been over half a year. The title, faded from age, was unfamiliar to Dean, almost as though he was laying eyes on it for the first time. Little bits of paper stuck out from the pages as his past self had been marking places of importance throughout the thick book.

He flicked through the pages, all relevant to the case, but they seemed almost irrelevant now. Was he supposed to care about this stuff? Had he preferred the civilian life? Chewing the side of his cheek, Dean had to snap himself out of it. Sure, he'd liked the life with Sam but that was because it was with Sam. The future man would probably make an awesome hunter too. Pride swelled within Dean at the thought of his partner being a hunter.

"Everything okay?" Dean didn't realise he was being watched until the old hunter addressed him. He was too caught up in his own mind. He schooled his features back to neutral.

"Yeah, just can't remember any of this stuff..." He admitted with a rub of the back of his head.

Bobby shrugged," I guess I don't really expect you to since its been a long time for you. You must have had a lot on your mind while you were gone." Sympathy shone in the old man's eyes and for a second, Dean was desperate to wallow in whatever the man would give him; whether that would be friendly advice or a comforting hug.

But Dean didn't. He simply nodded before peering back down to the blurry words. Tears, unwelcome in his eyes, were ruining his vision. He tried to focus and settle back into normal life but he struggled.

* * *

"Sam!" He jumped and span around. Jess was standing with her arms crossed and disapproval written into the creases in her face. Oh crap, I've been daydreaming again. "I asked you to come and check the Hydrogen-lifters twenty minutes ago. Where've you been?"

He went to fiddle with his tie but remembered that he didn't bother wearing one today. Sam's shoulders slumped, "I'm sorry." He mumbled, "I was just coming."

"Sam..." Just from the tone in her voice, he knew what was coming. "It's been a month now. He wouldn't want you to still be caught up like this. You're allowed to be happy."

"I was happy, Jess. I've never been so happy!" He didn't want to get angry at her. Jess was his friend but she just didn't understand. She had never been in love. "I just miss him... Okay? I don't even know if he's safe and that's my fault. What am I supposed to do?"

"Do? You're not supposed to do anything! Don't tell me you're gunna try and go back!" She hissed, aware that the government might be listening especially since Sam was under surveillance, "You'd be in even worse trouble!" She grabbed the sleeve of his white lab coat, "and I can't help you. I wish I could but it's such a risk. You could end up anywhere. Not even 2012 and you'll be stuck, alone and with no way to escape." Her logic was unarguable but he still felt the urge to try and convince his friend.

"Yeah... I guess." Sam mumbled.

"Now come on! You look a mess." She smoothed down his long hair and straightened his lab coat. At least he looked slightly more presentable now.


	21. Chapter 21

A few days later,

The library was only a few minutes from shutting up but Bobby's good relationship with the librarian meant they had a few extra moments to frantically search for some more lore. It originally seemed a strange place to look but the Sioux Falls local library was surprisingly well stocked with mythology. The dusty old spines hadn't been touched in years but that didn't deter the hunters. The fact that Bobby knew these shelves like the back of his hand definitely helped too.

"I don't think they have anything." Dean called down the aisle to where Bobby was scrabbling about on the bottom shelf.

"Keep looking." The old man encouraged and Dean obeyed since Bobby definitely knew the library better than him. The dust was being flicked around the air as Dean halfheartedly glanced at the spine of each tome. He didn't really know what he was supposed to be looking for so he was hoping to let the old hunter work through the majority of the books.

"Here!" Bobby exclaimed as he hauled out two massive books, one in each hand. He looked pretty smug with himself as the satisfaction clearly sat well with him.

The experienced hunter passed one book to the younger man before the hurried to the librarian to sign them out. She seemed more than happy just to finally be able to close up a long day and was definitely used to the mechanic borrowing strange books all the time.

* * *

The ride back in the truck was quiet aside from the sound of the old engine clunking beneath the hood. Dean trusted Bobby's skill enough to know it probably wouldn't break down on the way home but he didn't completely trust the rattling machine.

"How you doing?" Bobby asked as they got closer to home. He'd obviously picked up on Dean's subdued nature ever since he'd gotten back from the future. The old man glanced at him in the side of his eye.

"I'm alright. Still adjusting." He answered truthfully. There was rarely much point in lying to the man since he could read Dean like an open book. He had grown up around him so Bobby knew all his tells, "Guess I gotta get used to not having Sam about all the time too." He glanced down at his watch, 5:24, "He'd normally be coming home soon and then he'd tell me a whole bunch of nonsense about stuff I didn't understand."

"Real domestic then?" He asked gruffly but his eyes watched the road ahead. If Dean was upset, Bobby didn't want him to feel as though he was being watched and judged for it.

There was a huff of laughter, "Yeah, I suppose so. I went out and helped in a charity shelter a bit while Sam was at work but the manager hated me and I Sam got mad when I searched into his past... Turns out, it wasn't always so happy." He commented as though Bobby knew Sam and knew about his lavished lifestyle.

"People often wanna be secretive about their past, often when they have no need to. I guess some people don't like seeing who they've become by leaving themselves behind." The younger man didn't know Bobby could be so deep and philosophical.

Maybe that was true for Sam? He left behind his family and blood to work his way up. Perhaps he didn't like his new self in his monkey suits and giant minimalist apartments. Dean could see Sam being upset with himself because of who he was now. It wasn't Sam's fault really as he'd been plucked from his former life and moulded by the government.

Dean would bet any amount of money that Sam would go back, leaving behind his home and job, to be with his family.

It wasn't until they were on the driveway up to the scrapyard that the hunter finally fell from his thoughts. The old man didn't seemed to mind that Dean had zoned out. He probably assumed Dean was thinking about his time with Sam and he knew the young man needed that time.

Dean appreciated Bobby. He always knew what to say or do in any situation. Dean was glad he had him by his side through thick and thin.

* * *

The first thing Dean did, once making it inside the house, was throw off his leather jacket. He dropped the old coat onto the couch before wandering off to snag two beers from the fridge. It had been a long day and they both deserved a cold drink.

Bobby was already at his desk, flicking through the books, obviously finding the case a whole lot more important than Dean. He mumbled his thanks but was only really focused on the text in front of him. Dean tried not to roll his eyes as only six months ago, he'd probably have been doing the exact same thing.

Dropping himself down onto the couch, he heard a loud crunching sound. The noise seemed to come from nowhere which made even the studying hunter look up in confusion.

"You alright?" Bobby asked. He couldn't work out if the sound had radiated out from Dean's body or something else.

Shifting around where he sat, Dean pulled his leather jacket out from beneath him, "Yeah, I'm fine... It wasn't me." Suspicious, he raised an eyebrow at the offending article of clothing.

The hunter reached his hand into the pocket to no avail. He tried the left side before the inside pocket. His fingers touched the stiff material of the paper before his mind could recall what was hidden there.

 _It had survived the journey?_

Carefully, as though it was made of gold, Dean extracted the creased envelope with his thumb and forefinger. Bobby, now intrigued, stepped out from his desk to come closer. The old man noticed the awe in the green eyes and knew this paper must have some sentimental value. He noticed an old fashioned font written on the front.

 _For Dean Winchester, to be opened in one week._

"I nearly forgot to bring it with me... In the excitement of going home. Sam had to slip it into my jacket to ensure I kept it with me." He thought back to the Christmas morning when Sam had presented him with his gifts. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"What's in it?" Bobby asked, leaning closer. He loved solving a good mystery.

Shrugging, the blond man flipped it in his hands, "I dunno... I've gotta wait another three days."

"Why don't you just open it now?" The older man could feel the itch of curiosity. He wanted to know.

Dean stood and walked to the fireplace, behind the large desk, where he left the envelope to stand between a small knife and a picture frame. Bobby watched where he left it. Dean would be gutted if he misplaced the letter.

"Three days?" Bobby asked.

Nodding, "Three days."

* * *

Dean found Bobby working on a car the next morning once he awoke. It was strange to think how Bobby's 'real' job was actually a mechanic and he still had work to do when he wasn't on hunts. Dean leant up against the side of the car as he watched. This was how he learnt to fix Baby. He'd spent countless hours watching and asking endless questions until Bobby had allowed Dean to actually get his little grubby hands over a real engine. Needless to say, with Bobby's supervision, it went perfectly and was the start of a great love for the young hunter. He still loved fixing up his Impala even now and she was one of the first things he checked after returning.

"Hello." His eyes didn't leave his hands as he fiddled with various parts.

"Didn't think you saw me."

Bobby chuckled, "Trust me , son. I've been a hunter way too long to not notice when something around me is moving." Being alert is a skill that hunters always need or they don't last that long. You can never be off your game. "I'm guessing you didn't come out here to comment on me noticing you, what did you want?" He pulled his head out from under the hood.

Suddenly, Dean remembered why he'd walked all the way to the garage, "Yeah, have you seen Castiel? The last I saw him was the morning after I came home and I wanted to speak to him."

Bobby scratched his beard, "Not in a few days actually but he's usually pretty elusive. He's been hanging around here for the last few weeks before you left too so perhaps he's headed off for a break."

"Maybe I'll try and call him again." Dean mused as he turned to leave. The old hunter nodded as he concentrated back on the car.

"Oh and Dean?" Bobby stopped him, "Two days until you can open the letter from Sam."

The grin stretched across his lips. That definitely was good news.

* * *

The next two days went the same, Castiel didn't show, again, and Dean spent a large portion of his days staring at the envelope stood on the fireplace. It wasn't until Bobby got him doing some research that the hunter stopped moping and focused on something. Sam was at the forefront of him mind again. The longer they were apart the deeper his loneliness seemed to spread. By all accounts, time was supposed to heal wounds...

The case was going slow but Bobby seemed as dedicated as ever. He was the only one though as Dean was lost in his head, missing Sam, while Castiel was a no-show. The young Winchester couldn't wrap his head around the old man's perseverance. It was frankly impressive.

* * *

Dean woke to the sound of his bedroom door squeaking open; it really needed to be oiled. He peaked open one eye, assessing for danger despite being in the relative safety of Bobby's warded home. A true hunter, as Bobby proved a couple of days before, was always alert.

His tired eye could make out the shape of Robert Singer walking across the room towards him. It was rare for Bobby to set foot in Dean's room unless the man was ill or injured then Bobby would be in and out on nurse duty. This made Dean perk up and pay more attention.

"Bobby?" He rubbed at his sleepy eyes, "What time is it?"

The hunter acted slightly embarrassed for a moment and Dean understood why when the man explained, "It's 6:30 but I couldn't bear the waiting much longer." From behind his back, Bobby pulled out the creased envelope and presented it to the young man.

Hesitant, it took a moment for Dean to finally accept the letter and begin opening it. In some ways, he didn't want to open it as he didn't want to risk being disappointed by the outcome. Although, it's weight seemed to hold promise.

He broke the seal and pulled out a piece of paper. There was a letter handwritten on the paper and it had been wrapped around another envelope ( _For Dean Winchester, Open in One Week_ ). It really was a gift that keeps on giving.

He pulled the letter away from the new envelope and began to read.

 _Dean,_

 _If everything went to plan, and I'm desperately hoping that it did, then you should be at home right now with Bobby and Castiel. Send them my love and let them know how lucky they are to have you back since I was seriously considering keeping you here with me._

 _I guess after a week in you might have forgiven me for sending you back in such a rush and without giving you time to prepare; this will be more for my benefit then anything. I can't prolong the experience and run the risk of me changing my mind. Keeping you here really wouldn't be fair at all. I don't think I'm that selfish... Not really._

 _If you've opened this early then I will kill you but after a whole week you've probably adjusted back to normal life and barely think of me at all. I joke, of course. I don't want you to forget me (I guess I am selfish) but I want you to move on. Enjoy your life as it'll be so much more than if I keep you trapped here. I'm going to miss you like crazy but we'll be okay. You're the strongest and most loving person I know. You'll do fine._

 _I just wanted to leave you a gift to show I'm still thinking about you even now. Please use it wisely; maybe take Bobby out or buy him a gift since he's done a good job in raising you. It'd be a privilege to meet him._

 _Stay safe!_

 _Love you always, Sam. X_

 _Gift: (I'm not 100% sure how this works so good luck)_

 _ **South Dakota Lottery- 05/08/12**_

 _ **05, 08, 12, 28, 39, and 41**_


	22. Chapter 22

"What is it?" Bobby asked after watching Dean read through the letter. The words had clearly upset the man.

Sniffing, Dean peered up at the father-like figure, "He wrote me a letter apologizing for sending me away so fast but also said how lucky you are to have me as he was almost not gunna send me back... He also left a gift."

Sitting on the edge of Dean's bed, Bobby perked up, "What is it?"

Frowning, "Lottery ticket numbers..." It hadn't yet dawned on him what this meant.

There was a brief silence as both men thought over the ingenuity of Sam's gift. It must have been almost impossible to think of a gift that Sam could actually give his partner, "That boy is a goddamnned genius." Bobby commented. He didn't need to tell Dean that, he already knew.

"It's dated for tomorrow... Do you think we should go get a ticket?"

"Of course I think you should!" The grin of the old man's face was bright, "You told him about the bad motels and hustling for money then, I take it?"

"In passing... I didn't realise he paid so much attention." Dean stared down at the letter. Sam had even remembered where Bobby lived, "It's like he is trying to care for me even though we're far away." The smile spread onto his lips and a chuckle broke from his throat, "He doesn't even know how the lottery works." The laughter took over him until tears were streaming down his face and his stomach muscles hurt.

"I'm starting to like this boy more and more every day." Bobby laughed too. Dean had to agree even after this long, he still felt himself needing Sam beside him. This letter just served as a reminder of everything he'd left behind.

* * *

"Sam Wesson." The voice was gravely and deep, raising so many unnecessary questions in Sam's head. Firstly, that guy should probably get to a health professional. Secondly, who is he?

The long haired man leant his head and little frown lines formed on his face, "Yes, can I help you?"

Sam had to admit that he was being cautious. The government might be using this guy as an undercover spy to get some more information. He quickly peered around the open space of the fake grassy park to ensure he wasn't getting closed it. That would have not sat well with him.

"I'm Castiel and I'm an angel of the Lord." It sounded as though he gargled with iron shavings. It didn't seem to cause Castiel any pain so Sam forewent having to bring it up.

"Where're your buddies these days, Castiel?" Sam's casual attitude served to prove how Angels were considered common these days. No miracle required. "Shouldn't they be down here saving people? There's no hope."

If you glanced off into the distance you could see the thick layer of smog blanketing the city. In that image alone, Sam could see there was no hope. It was clearer now than it had ever been before. Dean had introduced him to the differences between their times as he craved the freshness and hope of that generation.

"I feel they may have been asked to retreat." The Angel muttered as he finally took a seat on the bench beside the tall man. Despite being in the presence of an angel, Sam's eyes scanned the area around him. He really should have spent more time out here and less time working.

Shrugging, Sam sniffed, "Guess there's no point saving a hopeless cause." There was a beat of silence but Sam didn't let it linger, "But I understand. What we've done to your father's creation just to benefit ourselves... It must break your heart."

Sam allowed his hazel eyes to settle on the trench coat clad angel with messy hair, "You are a good man, Sam Wesson."

He huffed out a laugh, almost sounding dismissive, "I'm no better than the next man. We all helped to create this mess." Sam breathed deep, "Anyway, you're here for a reason? If you tell me that Dean got disintegrated then I will actually find the nearest cliff and jump." Bitterly, he stated.

"No need. Dean is fine and safe. That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about." Castiel's face revealed nothing.

Sam peered at the man, curiosity shone in his features. Joy radiated from him at the news of Dean's return too! What did the Angel have to say?

* * *

"What ya gunna spend it on, boy?" The old hunter clapped Dean on his shoulder as they strolled towards the bank. Dean wanted to cash his check.

"I dunno, Bobby... But Sam did tell me to give you some."

"Why?! What did you tell him?!" Bobby looked a little frightened at the prospect of having dirt spread about him.

"Because you did a good job raising me, apparently." Dean smirked and dodged the punch Bobby threw at him.

"I did what I could whenever you weren't stuck with ya daddy." He shook his head, "That man could be a piece of work."

"Anyway, $10,000, thanks to Sammy." He changed the topic with the smoothness of a professional liar.

"I guess he wants you to have a good life." The old man scratched his whiskers, "He gave you a taste of luxury for six months so felt bad for taking that away from you."

There was a slight chuckle, "I don't think he saw his life as luxury. He was pretty much alone. One friend, no family so even though the apartment was incredible, he wasn't truly happy." His lips pinched into a pout as he thought.

Bobby watched the man thinking deep but didn't comment. He'd changed since spending the time away but not necessarily for the worst. He was so much more open about his feels like Sam had taught him that it is okay to feel things; there's no need to live life like a robot. It'd take a while to adjust to this change but Bobby knew over time, he'd come to like this open Dean so much more.

* * *

"Pizza?" Dean asked when the finally got home again, "We can order in." They didn't often order in food at Bobby's as he didn't exactly want tonnes of strangers wandering around his land, they could get into all sorts of trouble. But today, Dean felt like celebrating.

Uncertainly, Bobby's grumbling voice answered, "Sure thing, son."

He didn't want Dean to waste the money. It wasn't a huge amount but enough to help him out of a few tight spots over the next few years. Being able to maybe upgrade motels for harder hunts or buy some new clothes when they were needed was not common for the hunter.

"Don't worry," He knew the older man's thoughts, "Just this once to celebrate. It's not everyday I win the lottery." He smirked to hide the pang of loss he felt in his chest.

"I guess not... Okay, call them up." Bobby muttered as he fell down onto the old couch, it had been months since he'd found the time to relax.

Dean marched off to make the call and Bobby enjoyed the peace. _I wonder where Castiel got to_ , The old hunter thought.

* * *

"Okay, what?" Sam gawped at the Angel. The whir of machinery and electronics could still be heard in the background. They were in close enough proximity to still heard the city noise. The park was only small anyway.

"I need you to come with me." Castiel stated again.

"I don't... How- I?"

"I can take you to 2012, Samuel." He reached a hand down towards the young man like a peace offering. The future man merely stared at it in fear.

He couldn't leave, right? This was the world he knew. He'd grown up here and there was nowhere else he understood quite like this. Dean was the ultimate temptation but panic kept him rooted to the spot. He'd be lost in this old world with actual cars and dictatorships and wars. He wasn't equipped to live in that world. He wouldn't be able to leave all this behind.

Anyway, last time Castiel transported someone, they got lost in the incorrect time period.

"Why?" Sam managed to ask, "Why are you doing this for us? We don't deserve this."

Castiel swallowed before looking across the park at the fake trees. Guilt painted his features, "I wronged Dean and caused him distress by not fighting the fates when they took him-"

Sam interrupted, "And I thank you for that... Sorry, carry on."

"He was lost here and, for a hunter, this world is not suitable. His natural need for freedom must have been pressed while here. I wish to apologize to him by bringing back the only think he cares about from this time."

"Me?" Sam frowned. What if Dean liked something else better like a piece of technology?

"Yes, Sam. I'm fully convinced that he loves you and I could feel his discomfort when you were separated." There was a heartbeat of silence, "Ans I can feel your unhappiness too."

"I am depressed. It feels like I haven't been happy in months and I can't remember what that was like." The scientist admitted. "I miss him. I love him."

"Come with me, Samuel. I can help." The Angel reached out again but Sam took a step back.

He hesitated before making his request, "Please, there is something I must do first." He rung out his hands in nervousness. If the winged creature said no then Sam would be distraught.

Partly curious, partly patient, Castiel nodded to permit Sam more time.

* * *

"Jessica!" Sam called as he skidded to a stop.

Confused, the blonde whipped her head around to see who was calling her. A frown creased her brow when she noticed Sam just stopping a metre or so behind her. You could practically see the cogs turning behind her eyes.

The doors to her apartment building were open, waiting for her, but she didn't enter as she watched her friend.

"Sam? What's wrong?" It was clear she'd grown slightly fed up with Sam's recent heartbreak but she still cared for him like always. She would never abandon him.

"I need you to do me a massive favor! Can you do that for me?" His words stumbled as he rushed to get everything out. He didn't want to drag this out for too long. He had to speak over the sound of the ProJenerations whizzing past behind him.

She rolled her eyes dramatically but couldn't hide the pearl white smile that broke onto her lips, "Sure but what is it?"

"I'm leaving my home and possessions to my family. They are not living in housing one any longer but I need you to ensure it happens. I noted them down as my official inheritors but the government might not like it so fight it, please?"

"Wait, wait, wait. What are you talking about?" She shifted her bag higher onto her shoulder, "Where are you going?" Concern colored her tone.

Sam swallowed, taking a breath and looking into jess' eyes. The stillness he found there comforted him, "I'm going to 2012."

She puffed out a laugh before folding her arms and sticking out her hip, "How are you doing that? I'm not helping you use that death trap."

There was so much to explain. So much he wanted to tell her, to catch her up on but there was no time. This was not the best place to be having the conversation anyway.

"An angel, Jess. He is from Dean's time but has come to take me back." He explained, arms flying around wildly as he spoke, "There's not much left for me here aside from you and you have all your other friends. I'm alone, trapped and so empty."

She sighed, glancing at the floor. Sam could see how she was chewing the inside of her lip as her mind worked, "Okay." Her voice quiet when she finally spoke, "I'll make sure it happens." Tears began to form in her eyes, "But Sam, I'm going to miss you so much."

Pulling her into a huge, he soothed her, "I know, I'm going to be lost without you but it's something I have to do. I know that you know that."

She nodded.

"Thank you, Jessica. I love you."


	23. Chapter 23

It was quiet and Dean was spending another night in bed alone. He kept to the left side of the bed, leaving room for another person. A Sam shaped person. He sighed, he was being pathetic but it hurt to think about anything else.

Bobby was still working downstairs even though it was gone midnight and Dean could hear him wandering around every one in a while. For an old house, these floors are relatively thin.

* * *

The click of a keyboard was echoing around the house and combated the invading silence. The darkness always seemed to bring the silence with it like an accomplice. They went hand in hand. Bobby often contemplated these things at 2:58am. He liked to think of himself as a thinker; an occasional deep man.

His eyes had been straining against the alarming brightness of the screen for the passed hour but he still worked. He wasn't exactly fast with this technology but he could handle the Google and even considered himself a master in deleting emails (a trick Dean had been taught him) but he still preferred the comfortable reliability of a good old book.

He stretched, listening as his back clicked several times, and yawned while rubbing a hand under his cap. Today had been a long day especially since Dean seemed to retreat to his room just minutes before Bobby had the call to help with this case. He didn't have the heart to call the man back down.

THUMP!

The noise was loud, echoing through the crisp silence. Suddenly alert, Bobby extracted the gun from where he'd stashed it in the drawer. Silence continued like there'd been no disturbance at all. Bobby remembered the sound though, it wasn't a trick of the late hour. It was somewhat similar to a sack of potatoes being dumped onto his floorboards.

He rose quietly, aware that any sound could reveal his position.

The study was empty, no demons, werewolves or other nasties to be seen. It was hard to make out shapes in the dark as shadows moved. He stepped carefully, glad he remembered where the squeaky floorboards were. Living in one place for so many years had its advantages.

* * *

Breathing shallow, Bobby searched the rest of the house only to find nothing. The source of the bump was a mystery and Dean was even sleeping restlessly. It was only a hunch that got him to check the front porch.

The body was a surprise, to say the least. Crumpled on his door man was a young man, eyes closed. There seemed to be no movement, his chest not visibly moving and no sign of him waking up. Was he dead? Drugged?

The toe of his boot nudged the man carefully. The man didn't rouse. He nudged harder but the man still remained unconscious.

Crouching down, Bobby used the muzzle of the gun to lift the boy's chin slightly. A strand of brown hair flopped away from the man's face revealing him. It was almost as though Bobby recognized him but couldn't reach the memory.

It took a moment for the old hunter to come up with a theory and he was sceptical but he tried it out anyway.

"Dean!" He hollered, not having to worry about neighbors. "Come 'ere, boy!"

There was the sound of movement from upstairs as Dean pulled himself from the warm embrace of bed. Hands on hips, Bobby stood staring down at the collapsed boy with a crease in his brow. The stairs squeaked as Dean descended.

"What d'ya want, Bobby? It's like 3 in the morning." He groaned as he walked towards where the old man was standing on the porch. What the hell was he doing standing out there at this time?

"This your boy?" The gruff man asked with a point of his gun.

Dean sped up and was at the door in milliseconds. He was on his knees barely moments after that. His hands were grabbing at Sam trying to pull him up, off the night-chilled floor. Pulling him into his lap, Dean hugged him close.

"Sammy! Oh my god, Sammy." He cried a mix of excitement and panic. Why wasn't he waking up? He placed his fingers against the soft pulse of his boyfriend. "Wake up, Sam. You've come all this way." He smoothed the long brown strains away from his face. The man was pale and thin. "What's wrong with him?" Dean begged Bobby.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, "Let's get him inside. Maybe a warm bed will help?" The fear in Dean's eyes was heartbreaking for the old man. To see a man, almost like his own son, near tears was nothing he wanted to experience ever again.

Together, they managed to lift Sam and carry him up the stairs. Tucking him into Dean's still warm bed, they glanced over his thin frame and dark circles.

"It doesn't look like he's coped too well with you leaving." Bobby's words were supposed to inspire comfort but left him feeling guilty instead. "I'll get a glass of water ready." Bobby hurried off.

Grabbing his hand, Dean leaned in close, "Come on, Sammy." He rubbed his chilly hand inside his warm palm, "You're fine. You've made it." He rubbed his thumb against the flesh of Sam's hand. He checked the weak pulse again. It had not changed.

Dean rested his forehead against the bed. What were they going to do?

* * *

The door squeaked slightly when the old hunter pushed it open but Dean was too exhausted for it to rouse him. He'd stayed awake beside Sam for as long as his body would allow before he'd given up and climbed into the bed beside Sam. His strong arms were wrapped around the thin man protectively. Even in sleep he cared for his partner.

Sam man hadn't moved apart from when Dean shifted him slightly so his body could mould around him. The tall man's large frame looked strange in the smaller bed (since he was used to the king sized) but so do two grown men squished together so...

Bobby tiptoed further into the room to leave a fresh glass of water on the bedside before he started to creep out. Dean's eyes cracked open, spotted the old man, then closed again. He had no worries of being judged. He couldn't care any less if he was anyway as he was exactly where he wanted to be.

He could feel Sam's ribs from where his arms looped around his partner. Sam had always been slender but clearly the last few weeks had caught up with him and he hadn't been eating properly. Dean sighed, he wondered how long it had been for Sam. Weeks? Days? Months?

Bobby slipped out the door carefully with one last glance at the boys.

* * *

"Castiel!" The hunter tried not to yell as he didn't want Dean to hear and get his hopes up.

The old man walked deeper into the scrapyard as he continued murmuring about angels and their distinct lack of respect. His eyes trailed over the old rusty cars littering his property as he moved.

"Castiel! Come here!" He called up to the heavens. He wasn't an expert on this communication thing but surely speaking towards the clouds would make the message clearer... Right? "Come on." He grumbled.

There was a ruffle of feathers, "Bobby Singer?"

The hunter turned around and relief melted the frown lines from his forehead, "Castiel, thank God. Where've you been?"

The Angel stood still, arms stiff by his sides, "I had to explain my actions to my brothers. They weren't pleased by the cross-narrative-time shift." He spoke gravely.

"But Sam's ill." He burst out, eager for some sort of cure. The gravel crunched under his boot as he took a step toward the celestial being. The Angel made no move, only looking confused with a frown slowly forming on his lips. He blinked slowly.

In an instant, the trench-coat wearing tax-accountant was gone. The only thing proving his previous position was the sound of feathers brushing against wind. The hunter sighed but quickly dashed towards the house; he knew where the other man had shot off to.

* * *

"Dean?" The voice pulled Dean from his light rest. His mind was still alert from when he'd began to wind down a few hours before.

The hunter's eyes shot open and he was sitting up before the whole word had left Castiel's pink lips. He peered expectantly at his friend.

"Did you do this?" He gestured at his unconscious boyfriend, "Fix it." He didn't have to wait for Cas' confirmation. It was obviously the work of an angel.

Bobby burst through the door, panting and with sweat beading on his forehead. He hadn't run so fast since he was being chased by that werewolf last summer. He rested a hand on the doorframe to allow himself a moment to breath.

Dean only glanced at his fellow hunter before turning his attention back to the only man that has any hope of diagnosing his partner. He held his breath as he waited for the answer.

"This wasn't me." He stepped over to the bed so he was almost leaning over the unconscious man. "I sent him back safely." Placing his palm on Sam's head, Castiel closed his eyes and allowed his divine power to flow through him and inhabit the weakened human. Instantly, he could sense the problem, "It is his microchip. The loss of signal means it shorted out, sending him into a state of unconsciousness." Gentle fingers brushed back the hair.

"Can you help him?" Bobby asked, straighten up slightly.

Nodding, Castiel's eyes didn't leave Sam's peaceful face. "Of course."

He replaced his hand and, once again, closed his eyes. Creases formed in his brow as the concentration allowed him to control what power leaked from him.

Sam gasped, eyes flying open and taking in everything around him automatically. He acted as to be expected considering he was in a room predominantly made up of people he didn't really know; the young man leapt for Dean. Pulling the hunter into his arms and squeezing unbelievably tight. He never wanted to let go.

"Dean!" His voice broke as he held in sobs that were clawing to break free.

"Sammy!" He held Sam's head into his shoulder so he could just embrace him and make sure he really was real. If this was temporary Dean would be so mad that someone would tease him with this. Sam had become his world.

"Oh my God, Dean. I can't believe it." He pulled his head away from Dean's shoulder so he could kiss him.

Bobby watched, intrigued by this relationship. This was his first real look at Sam, Dean's Sam. He was trying to figure out what to think of the man when he suddenly stopped kissing his boyfriend and turned to the older hunter.

"Bobby?!" He blinked as though all the puzzle pieces were falling into place. This is what Bobby looked like. He'd heard stories of the man but now he was here in the flesh.

The future man leapt forward and pulled the hunter into his embrace. Slightly shocked by the outburst, it took a second for Bobby to actually lift his arms and hug back. His hand patted the man's back.

Sam stepped back and peered around the room, "Wait... I'm in the past?"

Dean chuckled, seeing the befuddlement on the man's face, "What do you think of it?"

"It's not in black and white..." He smirked, knowing he was being cheeky.

* * *

Dean lead the way downstairs with a grin plastered on his face. Sam, on the other hand, was looking rather concerned at the creaking sounds coming from the floorboards beneath them. He'd never been in a building so old. Must the places he visited were usually younger than him. New designs and technology changed so fast that buildings were outdated within a couple of years of their existence.

Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the study, guessing it'd be Sam's favorite room. His boyfriend sucked in a breath when his hazel eyes fell onto the shelves and shelves of books. Sam blinked before stepping closer to the old tomes. His long fingers traced over the spines, enjoying the rough feel under his tips.

"Dean, this is wonderful." Sam whispered reverently. He gently touched the gold titles.

"I knew you'd love this." He stepped beside him and linked their fingers. "How are you feeling about all this?" He asked after a moment, hoping this wasn't going to overwhelm him.

"It's quiet, Dean." He spoke quietly as though he was in a church. "It's never been this silent."

"Because there's no factories?"

"Kinda," He looked up at those books high above his head, "Mainly my chips is dead... So there isn't that constant reel of news and updates. It's like my brain is mine again. Controlled only by me."

Sam grinned down at his partner and a kiss soon followed. He kept staring at the man as he couldn't comprehend how he'd almost lost him forever.


	24. Chapter 24

"Eat." Dean stated as he dropped a plate in front of his thin partner. "You've lost too much weight."

"I think I ran out of protein packets..." He mumbled as he poked the sandwich, suspicious of it and the contents. It reminded Dean of how he had not fully trusted the oatmeal stuff that Sam seemed to eat every morning.

"And you didn't think to get any more?" Dean frowned but Sam didn't notice, he was too busy dissembling the ham from the bread.

His shoulders rose, "I didn't get around to it."

Dean wanted to scold him for his blatant disregard for his own health but let it pass. At least he could now look after Sam and keep him healthy. He vowed to do a better job than the man himself.

Sam pulled the food back together so he could take a bite. His nose screwed up and jaw fell open to allow the half mushy sandwich to fall back onto the plate. It landed with a splat. Dean made a disgusted face but Sam was too busy swallowing down water to care.

"That is disgusting." He stated with a look of horror. All food better not taste like this, he thought.

Dean raised a challenging eyebrow but tried not to chuckle at Sam's look of utter terror. The hunter picked up the non-mushy bit sandwich and took a bite. To him it tasted like a regular ham sandwich. Perhaps future people have different taste buds?

* * *

Bobby had to run a bunch of errands so took off with the promise of being a few hours at least. Dean knew that Bobby wanted to give them some privacy to catch up but nobody said the obvious.

"Go up to the bedroom and pick out some clothes you want to wear until we buy you your own set." Dean told him as he went to scrape Sam's lunch into the trash, "I'll be up now to see how you're doing."

Sam left and made his way upstairs. Dean laughed at the tall man's hesitation to even step upon the stairs.

* * *

The hunter gently pushed the bedroom door open and stepped inside.

"Have you picked?" He asked, his heart swelling at the way Sam was knelt down, rummaging through the drawers.

"No yet." Sam sighed while standing up and facing Dean. "I'm not sure many of these will fit me..." He gestured down at the drawer.

Dean smirked and stepped closer to the taller man. He laced his fingers into the fine hairs at the back of Sam's neck and pulled him close. The kiss was gentle, just reassuring him of how much he loved him.

"I've missed you, Sammy." He murmured against soft lips.

"I missed you too. So so much."

He kissed him then with more passion and ferocity. Sam soaked every bit up, just grateful to be in Dean's arms again. He'd missed him and wanted to treasure every moment. He pulled Dean closer to deepen the kiss.

Dean backed them up as he sucked on Sam's lips and tugged at the long strands. Sam fell back into the bed with a grunt and Dean began to place sloppy kisses along his long neck. The hunter could feel his partner swallowing as excitement rolled through him.

"Dean," Sam moaned as he twisted his fingers in Dean's short hair to pull him up so their lips could meet again.

It was a messy clashing of teeth and lips but the flood off passion washed over any mistakes. They were just over eager to reach each other's skin. Sam flipped them around so he was on top and he could get everything going; he wasn't waiting around, not this time.

They had to break the kiss so Sam could haul Dean's t-shirt over his head before throwing it across the room with little care for where it landed. Dean was already pulling at the hem of Sam's as he wanted them to be on an equal footing. The future man was more than happy to oblige.

Kissing along Dean's jawline, Sam's hands began to busy themselves with the hunter's belt. His fingers, in their desperation, slipped and stumbled, only making slow progress.

"I missed you. Sammy, I missed you." Dean panted as his skin became overly sensitive, picking up every small touch from Sam. The younger man mumbled his reply but was focused elsewhere.

The belt finally came loose after Sam's persistent work and he released a cry of happiness at the achievement. With long fingers, he began to pull the jeans down Dean's legs leaving him naked aside from his boxers. Sam smirked.

Lowering himself down, Sam placed his mouth over Dean's cloth covered erection and enjoyed the noises of pleasure that radiated from his boyfriend. Damp spread through the material but neither man paid it that much attention.

"Sam," The groan was pulled from Dean's throat. His hands grabbed Sam's head, fingers entwining with his long strands of chestnut hair. The slight tug of his hair had the younger man moaning against Dean, sending pleasure waves through the other.

The hunter reached down and stripped himself of the underwear leaving himself naked under Sam. The long haired man's eyes shone in awe and appreciation. He licked a line along the underside of Dean's cock, savoring how it made made the man shiver. He engulfed Dean into the wet heat of his mouth and automatically, the hunter bucked up. Sam bobbed his head up and down Dean's cock which began to wind Dean tighter and tighter.

"Sammy, Sammy!" Dean begrudgingly moved Sam away from him so he could look into his eyes. "If you want me to last, you're going to have to stop." He panted, testing out his self control.

The younger man nodded rapidly in conformation triggering a smile from Dean. It was the first time Sam had admitted that he'd be happy to actually go all the way with him. Happiness bloomed in his chest.

"Another important question, bottom or top?" Dean muttered as Sam began to distract him by running his fingertips along his stomach and sides. Dean had never considered bottoming before but he knew he'd give Sam whatever he wanted.

Sam shrugged, simply eager to get going, "Bottom? I'm kinda new to all this so..." His tongue drew a line along the hunter's neck.

"Hey, me too." Dean encouraged, kissing Sam again to relight the interest.

Dean flipped them over and began to pull Sam's trousers down his long legs. Hooking his tight underwear at the same time left Sam naked beneath his boyfriend. His erection stood proud from his pubic hair.

"You're beautiful, Sammy." Dean murmured as he ran his hands down Sam's sides, feeling the muscle hidden there. The blush spread across Sam's cheeks and up to the tops of his ears. "I'm going to get you ready first, okay? I don't wanna accidentally hurt you." His self control was wavering but he'd be thorough to ensure Sam was okay.

Leaning across to his bag on the floor, Dean snagged some lube stashed at the bottom. He coated his fingers before encouraging Sam to raise his legs to give the hunter access. Sam's head lolled back as Dean gently worked him open. Sam savored the burn as Dean progressed further.

The older man's long fingers opened him up, nudging the bundle of nerves inside him. Each time, Sam's moans filled the room. Dean worked him open patiently.

It wasn't until he was completely sure that Sam was ready that Dean rolled on a condom and applied more lube. He lined himself up with Sam's hole but waited. His hands caressed his partner's soft skin.

"Sammy," He murmured into his boyfriend's chest, "Are you sure?"

"Dean, yes." He moaned, pulling Dean up to kiss.

The hunter slid in easily and a wave of pleasure flooded through him. His arms shook where he held himself above the other man. He paused to gave Sam time to adjust. He knew there'd be a slight twinge of pain to deal with.

"Just move already." Sam groaned after a moment as he wrapped his legs around Dean's waist and pulled him closer. They had never felt so in tune together. They're bodies were moulded to fit.

Not needing any more encouragement, Dean began pumping into his boyfriend. Groans of pleasure leaked from Sam as Dean's cock slid in and out of him. His legs tightened around the man, ensuring he reached deeper.

Panting, the men were sweating and becoming sticky but they couldn't care. Bliss poured though them in heavy waves, they were dragged under by the undertow. His thoughts scattered, Sam could only bring Dean's name from his throat. The hunter worked harder, enjoying the sound of his name falling desperately from his partner's lips.

The warm sensation was spreading through him, the knotting feeling tightening and tightening. He wouldn't last much longer. Dean's fingers found Sam's swollen cock and he worked him towards completion.

Sam's head was thrown back in ecstasy as he came. His come dripping down Dean's fingers and across the man's chest. The sight was enough to pull him crashing over the edge. He cried into Sam's shoulder as pleasure hit him, sending white sparks behind his eyes. Never before had it been like that. Never before had he had such a connection.

"Don't ever leave me again." Sam murmured as he closed his eyes.

"You're the one that sent me away!" Dean argued, panting.

"No way, I have no idea what you're talking about." He lied with a smirk.

* * *

Sam was sleeping and Dean was fighting to stay awake. His fingers danced over the flushed skin of his partner almost absently. Bobby would be home soon and Dean didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of being caught naked in Bobby's guest bedroom.

It had been about twenty minutes since Dean had gotten up to clean them off and ever since then sleep had been pulling him down but he fought it. Sam hadn't been so strong; seconds after Dean pulling out, Sam had been unconscious, sprawled across the bed as though he owned it. Dean didn't try to wake him, it had been an interesting day for the man.

As an attempt to stay awake, Dean stood and pulled his clothes back on before combing his fingers through his hair to neaten it. After tucking the blanket over Sam, Dean headed downstairs to wait for Bobby.

He yawned as he descended the stairs. Tonight would be an early night.


	25. Chapter 25

Sam slept through until early the next morning. Dean was holding him tight and it broke his heart to extract himself from his partner's grasp especially when that was exactly what he'd been missing over the last few months. He left a kiss on Dean's forehead.

He pulled on his usual clothes before deciding to head downstairs and look around a little more. He'd not managed to have a real look around yesterday so he was determined to actually use his time to discover more about this new time... Old time.

The stairs squeaked as he put weight on them but he'd already started to adjust to that strange feature of the house. Without his microchip constantly reeling noise into his head, Sam could actually hear everything around him and could focus more easily.

He immediately walked to the window but the early morning dew made it look too chilly out there so he resigned and decided to explore some more there later. Instead, he peered around until he found the kitchen.

He couldn't tell whether this kitchen was modern for the time or worn and old. From all the pictures he'd ever seen, old kitchens all seemed too similar for him to differentiate. The work surface was littered with little objects, bottles and devices, each Sam was too scared to touch. He didn't want to mess with anything.

He found an object he recognized, it had made an appearance in one of the older movies he liked to watch. It was a Toaster. Spotting the bread, that Dean used yesterday, Sam pulled out a slice and held it above the machine. He dropped the bread on top of the metal and peered at it for a moment.

"Activate." He commanded when nothing worked. A frown pulled at his brow. He held his bracelet to the machine but it was dead. He sighed. He hit his palm against the side of the machine, "Activate. Form, Cooked bread?"

"Hey! Ya gunna break my toaster." Bobby grumbled from the doorway.

Sam leapt back guiltily and peered down towards his feet, "I'm sorry... I think I broke it."

Bobby cast a critical eye over the device before bursting out into laughter. Sam had lain the bread flat over the top of the toaster. It was bizarre to think that this grown man knew less about toasting bread than a toddler.

"Nah, I don't think so." He chuckled while lifting the bread and placing it into one of the slots. He then pressed down the lever, taking the bread into the machine to be toasted. "It's just all manual here. Nothing much is voice activated, unfortunately."

Sam nodded, already having learnt so much, "Thank you so much for helping me." He beamed.

"Thank you so much for looking after Dean." He stated easily while making together a strong cup of coffee. He needed it if he had to converse with someone at this time in the morning. Usually, he was lucky as Dean didn't normally pull himself out of bed until about 9-10 so Bobby had time to wake up first. "Do you want coffee?"

Sam was hesitant, "Yes, please."

Bobby handed him a cup and Sam took a careful sip, "This is good! Way better than the health stuff we had."

Bobby grinned, glad to see Sam had found something he liked since he'd been told about how the sandwich didn't go down very well.

He peered at the man sipping at the brown liquid as though it held the secret to eternal life. His hazel eyes were turning cross-eyed as he tried to watch the coffee as he drunk.

"Careful, son." He warned. Sam peered up at him with a painfully genuine expression on his face but it was gone too soon, "Don't go burning yourself!"

There was a few beats of silence as Sam seemed to be enthralled by his surroundings and Bobby studied the stranger at his kitchen table. This was bizarre for him, he rarely let unknown faces inside his home but he trusted Dean so he trusted Sam.

"You're different to how I expected." The old hunter commented after a sufficient amount of staring.

Sam looked worried and shifted slightly, "How so?"

"You're big... Massive even. I kinda imagined you as a small fella so you can imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find you on my porch... You're funny too. Dean told me a lot about how smart you are and all about your job but he didn't say much about you. As a person." He seemed to shrug off the overly deep comment and began to pull a few plates from the cupboard to place Sam's toast on.

The hunter knew it was coming so was prepared, Sam wasn't. The future man jumped when the toast popped up from the toaster. Bobby tried to hide the chuckle it sparked in him.

He placed it in front of Sam with butter, jelly and peanut butter. He watched the man carefully. The hunter found it amusing to see Sam ponder over which spread would go down the best. He already seemed to have waved off jelly but it was a kind of weird thing to spread on bread.

He picked butter, the safe option and spread it easily. He took a small nibbled from the edge but lay it gently back on the plate with a look of disgust on his face. Maybe it was the bread which he didn't like?

"Not to your taste?" The old man chuckled while leaning against the counter.

Sam was about to answer when the phone rang. Bobby was immediately there, always on duty, and picked it up.

"Hello?" He glanced at Sam, who smiled back, "Yeah, sure. I'll take a look and get back to you." He hung up. Bobby was always brief and to the point; it was something that many hunters liked about him.

"Look, Sam. I've gotta do some work... But you can..." He was at a loss. It seemed rude to just leave this unknown man sitting here alone but how could he expose someone to hunting?

"What... hunting?" Sam leant his head but clearly wasn't surprised by the idea that Bobby went around killing monsters for a living.

"You know?" He spluttered.

Shrugging, Sam took another sip of the cooling coffee, hiding the smirk, "Yeah, it's not really that secretive anymore. Everyone knows what you guys do so..."

"...Do you want to help then?" It was only research so that doesn't count as pulling someone into the life... Right?

The tall man jumped up and rubbed his hands together, "You bet!"

* * *

"Are you serious?" Sam gasped at the piles of books that Bobby revealed hidden under sheets or under desks. He hadn't noticed them on his original tour of the home-library.

"Yeah," He glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"You have to search through these whenever you want to find one piece of information..." Sam clarified. There was a look of thoughtfulness upon his features, "You realise everything would be so much easier for you if you just upload this to the Internet..." He gestured at the old tomes on the shelves and books elsewhere in the room.

"You want me to put my life's work onto the Internet?!"

Sam shrugged, "It would be so simple." He walked around the room a little, his eyes scanning the books and papers, "I could do it for you."

Bobby was about to form a protest when Sam interrupted, "I could password protect it so only you have access but you could also choose who can go there so you could give the password to Dean and any other hunter."

"Seriously?" He wasn't great with technology but he hadn't the slightest clue that the Internet could do so much to help him.

Sam nodded, "2012? You guys should have the technology for it... Besides, you can type in keywords and any pages or papers on that topic will show up immediately." He explained to the older man.

"You'd do that for me?" It was rare that anyone really did favors for Bobby especially when the hunter hadn't already done anything for them but Bobby remembered Dean's comment on how Sam was a good person. He was always eager to help others.

Sam shrugged as though it was nothing, "Of course. I'd just need to buy a scanner." He peered around the room just to check if the man just happened to have a scanner lying around the room amongst the rest of the mess.

* * *

Later that day~

"Sammy, you've got to stop." Dean mumbled as he tucked Sam's hair behind his ear. The future man seemingly ignored him, bent forward with his fingers typing furiously.

"I will, Dean." Sam muttered as he placed a new page under the scanning machine. He began to type out the key words from the document when Dean held his chin to face him.

"Sammy... Seriously, it's been hours so come for some dinner." The hunter encouraged him but his eyes were pleading.

When they made it to the kitchen, Bobby had just finished laying everything out on the table. There was several different cooked dishes and a plate or two of cold food. Sam's eyes widened at the sight. The old man stood proudly behind his chair, studying the man's reaction. The two hunter's had been planning this since Sam started work on transferring the files. Dean knew his partner well enough to be certain that the scientist wouldn't leave his work station for hours as he always became too dedicated to tasks.

"What's this?" His hazel eyes shot between the two other men in confusion.

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _Sorry, this chapter was a little shorter than anticipated but I've been busy working on the beginning of my next unrelated wincest as this is only a few chapters from completion!_**


	26. Chapter 26

There was a sparkle in the hunters eyes as they both gauged Sam's reaction to the large spread. They looked at each other with massive grins. They'd been planning this for hours so this was finally the pinnacle of all their hard work.

"We want to find what you like." Dean answered, buzzing with excitement. The store had been busy but he'd been patient and waited in line to pay for his cart full of vegetables, junk food and general unnutritious rubbish. It was so varied that there had to be somethings that'd take Sam's fancy.

"Really?" Sam gasped and tried not to blush as he smiled. Nobody usually went out of their way for him. Nobody had ever cared enough to do so.

"Yeah!" Bobby spoke before Dean could get another word in, "Now sit! It's gunna get cold!" He instructed, waving down at the table.

Obediently, Sam immediately dropped down onto the free chair in front of him. The banquet was laid out on the small table, all the plates and bowls barely fitting. He bet that such a vast amount of food would have cost them a fortune.

"What's this?" Sam pointed to a crab shaped pastry.

"It's from France. It's called a croissant." Dean supplied handily with a smile. He forgot about his own need for food as he focused on his thin boyfriend, eyes never leaving him.

The tall man plucked the croissant from the plate and lifted it so his hazel eyes could study every inch of the golden pastry. His fingers ripped off a piece and placed it into his mouth. His mouth fell lopsided as he ate. The hunters at the table were more than eager to discover whether Sam enjoyed it or not.

"So?" Bobby managed to ask before the younger man.

Sam shrugged, "It was okay but I wouldn't choose it daily." He blushed, embarrassed that he was being negative when Bobby had spent money on this dinner for him, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, we will discover what you like." He scratched his head under the old baseball cap. There was so much choice that surely the future man will find something he liked.

"Try this." Dean pushed a heavy dish towards him, it scrapped along the wooden surface of the table. "This is something special that Bobby sometimes makes for birthdays or celebrations."

The stew always brought back good memories for Dean as he'd eaten it whenever he'd been recovering, on his birthday and usually if John brought him around for a really short visit. It reminded him of warmth and the homeliness Bobby always managed to create. It wasn't a fancy meal which is why Dean thought it was perfect that Bobby, the rough and tough hunter, would make it.

Sam peeped over the rim of the dish to see a type of stew sloshing around inside, scepticism drew his features and he peered at his boyfriend. Dean rolled his eyes but gestured for Sam to try some.

The tall man ladled out some running stew onto his plate, picked up his fork, speared some chicken and took a bite. His eyebrows rose in surprise and his lips turned up, creating dimples in his cheeks.

"I knew that'd do it!" Bobby cried. Everyone he'd ever met had loved his stew but, to keep it special, he only made it on important occasions. Also, it took ages and the hunter simply didn't have that much time to spare on a normal day. "It was sure to be a firm favorite!"

"This is nice. Better than anything else so far!" Sam enthused, gaze darting back and forth between the other men. Maybe he wouldn't have to starve while here after all. He brought more up to his mouth and munched it, glad of the food.

"Wait," Dean looked mischievous and Bobby was trying to stop him, "I think you'll like this best." He smirked, knowingly. He handed it to Sam,

"What's so special?" Sam's fingers stuck to the sticky gaze. The pastry was clearly sweet and sugary but it was oddly shaped in an O which the future man saw to be impractical. Brown glaze coated the top, which Sam assumed to be chocolate.

"Just try it."

Bobby released a long suffering sigh, "Dean wanted to bet that this would be your favorite. He seems to think that just because you're dating, he knows everything about you." He chuckled at the boy he considered to be a son.

Sam licked his lips before taking a large bite from the circle of pastry. Eyes widening, he groaned, "Oh my God, what is this?!"

"It's a doughnut." Dean was buzzing with energy as his predictions had come true. Plus, Sam clearly liked sweet stuff so perhaps he'll also love pie? Then they can have pie every meal of everyday.

"It's so much... Sugar!" He laughed. "I don't think I've consumed so much sugar ever in my life! The government has special limitations for what you can eat and fat, sugar, liposcene content." He explained to Bobby. He bit down again into the doughnut and grinned. The sticky chocolate stuck around his mouth, "Can I have another?"

* * *

Dean cellphone rang from across the study, it disturbed Sam's typing so the man frowned at the small device. It was a cheap one with no touch screen but just a key pad. Dean didn't want anything fancy for his hunter contacts and business. Anything with a glass screen would get smashed within minutes thanks to his lifestyle.

After waiting a few seconds to see if either Dean or Bobby would show up to answer it, Sam stood and hesitantly made his way over to the phone. He watched it vibrate as the technology was way too old for him to just use without instruction. He grabbed it but held it far from him as though it was a danger to him.

"Dean!" He cried. "Your cellphone is ringing!"

"Just answer it! I'm coming now!" He could hear Dean call back from somewhere in the house. They were probably checking out the panic room Bobby build a few years ago again. It was the third time they'd gone down there but Sam assumed they were making plans for the end of the world or something even though he knew that wasn't coming anytime soon.

Sam pulled up the small device and his hazel eyes bore into the plastic. With hope in his chest, his long fingers prodded the screen but it didn't get any reaction from the phone. He pressed down on the numbers, unsure to whether he needed a passcode to access the caller. He internally groaned, everything was so much easier with a bracelet.

"I can't!" He cried, slightly panicked.

He could hear his hunter boyfriend sprinting up the stairs from the basement, "Why not?!"

"This is NOT technology! I've seen pencils more advance than this piece of crap!" He grumbled stubbornly.

Dean chuckled at him before slipping the cellphone from his partner's long fingers, "Thanks." He marched away to speak.

Sam crossed his arms and dropped down into his chair, mumbling about technology and pencils.

* * *

"It's easy, I swear." Dean had tear marks down his red cheeks from laughing too hard. Sam, on the other hand, was scowling out of the windshield.

The tall man hit his fists against the steering wheeling and cried out in exasperation, "Its obviously not easy! I can't even get it to move!"

"Hey, hey! Don't take it out on Baby! It's not her fault that you're useless at this." He tried to hide his smirk, knowing his comment was bound to wind up the scientist.

It was beginning to get increasingly warm inside the old '67 Impala, the sun had been beating down on the black vehicle for over two hours now. Two hours without moving. It was strange for Dean to be in the passenger seat but it offered a different perspective of the car. Also, it gave him flashbacks to his youth when he'd ride up front with his father.

"I am not useless! I have a fully licenced D-F12! I am working with the top people in my field and made leaps in technological advancements!" He cried, pulling at the long stands of hair. Frustration was bubbling within him and his scowl turned down further. How could all his skills be worth nothing here?!

"Sammy, I was joking. It's fine. Loads of people don't drive." Dean soothed. He was eager for Sam to learn but he knew that if they pursued it for much longer then they'd roast in this giant oven. He rested a hand against Sam's arm.

"That's such a lie but okay, let's go find something better to do." Sam leant over and placed a kiss onto Dean's lips before shooting out of the Impala and towards the house. Clearly driving wasn't Sam's forte.

Dean shut off the engine and locked up before walking after Sam slowly. He glanced back at the car, even after two hours, she hadn't even moved an inch.

* * *

Dean held the plastic inches above the trash can, ready to drop it into the dark abyss.

"Dean Winchester!" A voice, filled with horror, cried out. "What are you doing?!"

Dean glanced around in shock like he was searching for someone else to blame even though he had no idea why he was about to be scolded. He swallowed and glanced up at his boyfriend, stood with his hands on his hips in the doorway. He felt like he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar but he had no real idea to why Sam was mad.

"Hey, Sammy. Everything okay?" He tried to distract his partner but he still remained frozen with his hand hovering over the trash.

"That," He gestured sharply at the plastic, "Can be recycled." His critical eyes turned on Dean, daring him to challenge him.

"I've never recycled, Sam. It's not like one person would make any difference." He opened his fingers letting the plastic flutter into the bag. He grinned proudly at Sam.

"What did you just do?" Sam hissed, darkly. His arm shot out and snagged a cushion from around the other side of the wall, in the other room, "This is why my world is destroyed!" Sam ran for Dean, his cushion held aloft like an evil weapon. "I hope your happy! You're killing the animals! Killing the trees! Killing the ozone! Killing the humans! Killing the oceans!" The hunter sprinted through the house, unable to slow down as his boyfriend was forever on his tail. They ran around and around like a vicious game of cat and mouse.

"What the hell is going on down here?!" Bobby shouted over the noise from where he was stood on the bottom step, watching the boys run.

Suddenly, Dean darted past him with shear panic on his face. Sam was right behind him wielding his cushion and shouting threats.

The old hunter merely shook his head before retreating back upstairs. He didn't want to get involved in whatever this was.

"I will kill YOU for not recycling!" The sound of Sam's cries reached all the way to Bobby's nearest neighbor. Who knows what they thought of such a threat?

* * *

The cell phone rang in Dean's pocket and the hunter shifted to reach it. Sam's head, rested on Dean's knee, bumped up and down when his partner moved. The future man let out a grunt in discontent but Dean's fingers, smoothing his hair, stopped his complaining.

The tall man settled back down to watch the old to show, completely ignoring whatever phone conversation Dean was in the midst of. Bobby peered up from where he was studying a tome in his armchair but it wasn't long before he had his nose back in the book.

The old hunter had grown accustomed to the two men showing affection. They were considerate enough to keep in mild around him as they knew public displays of affection were pretty gross. Especially if one of those men was someone you considered to be a son.

Over the couple of months they'd stayed here, Sam had grown pretty comfortable in the house. Nothing seemed to surprise him anymore, not even when a hunter turned up a week ago with a vampire head hanging from his fingers.

Sam only began listening to Dean's conversation when he could hear slight concern in his partner's tone. There wasn't much out here that troubled him anymore.

Dean held tight to his cell, "I don't know if it's too soon." He mumbled to whoever was listening on the other side.

Sam frowned but didn't divert his eyes from the tv. He had a sneaking suspicion that Bobby would also currently be eavesdropping on the young hunter. They both worried about him sometimes.

"It's only been a few months... That's fucking ridiculous!" Dean hung up with a mighty huff. The temptation to throw the cell was strong but he fought it.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked gently.

Dean looked down this boyfriend with sad eyes but carded his fingers through the man's long hair to stop him growing too anxious, "Yeah, it was just another hunter."

"Oh," Sam looked down at the floorboards for a moment before peering back up, "What did they want?"

Dean swallowed and glanced over at the old hunter, who was watching them carefully, "There's a hunt."

* * *

Sam and Dean had the Impala packed up with their belongings and both stared towards the entrance of the salvage yard. The future man swallowed and took a shaky breath.

Everything he'd learnt over the last two months was now in the rearview mirror of a car he couldn't even drive. The man, who'd treated him like family, was waving from the porch behind them. He'd never felt so at home anywhere since he left his family to work.

Tears were gathering in his eyes as he watched Bobby through the mirror. He jumped when a hand wrapped around his.

"You okay?" Dean's green eyes met Sam's and they asked a thousand more questions.

Sam tightened his grip. He sighed, "No."

"Don't worry." Dean leant across to kiss him, "I've got you." The kiss was soft and was heavy with a promise.

The hunter started up the engine and smiled gently when she purred. He easily directed her towards the exit with the skill which came from practice. Sam let out a steadying breath as he watched the house grow smaller and smaller into the distance until Dean turned into the road and Sam could no longer see Bobby or his house.

Sam didn't know where he was going and he didn't know what he'd have to do but he did know that everything would be okay as long as he had Dean as his guide.

* * *

~A/N-

This was the last official chapter! Next Sunday: A Short Epilogue!


	27. Epilogue- Two Years Later

To say a lot had changed over the last two years since Dean had crashed into Sam's life would be a massive understatement. It was something Sam thought about often when he had a spare moment but it had definitely changed for the better.

"Sam!" The familiar voice called to him.

The tall man spun around, smiling so tight that his dimples couldn't be accentuated any more. His eyes landed on the old man and he ran to him, arms wide.

"Bobby!" Joy flooded though Sam, "We weren't expecting you until tonight!" He squeezed him tight into a hug.

"Couldn't resist coming down a littler earlier. After all, it's not everyday I get to see my two favorite hunters!" He chuckled, hugging back with equal force. His face pressed against Sam's plaid-clad shoulder.

"It's only been a couple of months!" The young hunter laughed at their reunion. For him, seeing Bobby again was always like seeing a long-distance relative.

They both began walking towards the motel where the boys were staying for the duration of the hunt. It was cheap and worlds away from what Sam used to have but he wouldn't trade this for the world, lumpy beds and all. There was a comfortable silence as they crossed the parking lot, they were readjusting to the other's presence.

"How is he?" Bobby asked, making light conversation.

"I think he's good. Really good but you can ask for yourself." Sam answered as they reached the brown door labelled room 7. He unlocked it easily and let them in.

Dean was lying back on their bed with a beer in his fingers. He was laughing at whatever had just happened on the show he was watching but looked up to greet Sam when he entered, as he always did. His eyes sparkled with adoration which made Sam blush.

"Look who I found." Sam said as though he'd picked up a stray puppy. He stepped aside to reveal Bobby from behind his massive frame.

"Bobby!" Dean shot up and pulled the man into a hug, "How y'doing?" The smile carried in his tone. He was always beyond pleased to see his surrogate father especially after a few months apart. He'd been a rock for him over the years.

They embraced and Bobby couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his face as he spoke. To see both his boys was always special for him since they were usually so busy dashing from place to place. They'd grown into an unstoppable team especially when Sam held such researching skills! Needless to say, he was always building tech to make hunting easier form the whole community; he was truly a God send. This meant that the boys were in high demand.

"Do you want a beer?" Sam asked. He began walking to the small fridge before the old man had even began to answer as he knew him well enough to know.

Dean and Bobby took a seat around the table and began to catch up while Sam quickly grabbed three bottles and carried them over in his giant bear paws. He held one out to Bobby.

"What's this?!" The old man cried, peering at Sam's hand.

Shocked, Sam froze and searched for words, "Uh, beer? You wanted one, remember?"

"No!" Bobby waved off Sam's comment like he'd been intentionally stupid, "I meant, what's this?!" He pointed to the golden ring circling Sam's wedding finger. His eyes glanced down to Dean's to see a matching band.

Upon realising what the hunter was asking, Sam blushed a deep red, "It was Dean's idea." He mumbled.

Dean was beaming with pride, the smile stretching from ear to ear. His eyes glittered and his right hand fiddled with the ring as he spoke, "I asked Sammy to marry me a few months back."

"Congratulations, boys! I'm so happy for you but... Why wasn't I invited?!" He pretended to be mad to tease them.

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled on Sam's sleeve to make him sit, "It was this one. He was so embarrassed about being married. He didn't want to be the centre of attention so only agreed to marry me once I'd promised not to tell anyone that it was even happening." He grinned, so happy just to be able to finally tell the hunter, "I wanted to tell you in secret but knowing Sam, he'd find out within minutes!"

The youngest man thumped his husband in the arm in a desperate attempt to stop him being so embarrassing. He was purposely showing Sam up to get revenge. Dean merely laughed.

Bobby watched them carefully. He could honestly say that he'd never seen Dean so cheerful in the whole of the boy's life. He seemed more free and spirited, more like the man Bobby had always hoped he'd grow into. Sam had grown older, the weight of the world drew tiny wrinkles around the edges of his eyes and he spoke with a more worldly knowledge, not just what he'd been taught. Laughter lines had been etched into his skin where they'd spend hours together laughing and smiling.

He often wondered if Sam missed his old home but knew that without each other, they'd never _truly_ be at home.

* * *

 ** _~A/N~_**

 ** _Well, this has certainly been a journey!_**

 ** _Thank you so much to everyone who favourited, reviewed and followed. I really appreciate it! Thank you so much for everything._**

 ** _Meg X (Hunting Angels)_**


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